The Scavenger Bride
by BlueMilagro
Summary: A continuation of "Uninvited." Medical Examiner Imogen Phillips, the only person Herbert West fully and completely trusts, works with her partner to perfect the work started by Dr. Gruber to a point that makes someone from the university jealous... and, if they're not careful, everything they've come to love could be taken from them in a heartbeat. Please R&R! :)
1. Ideal Bounds

Hello and welcome to my continuation of "Uninvited," entitled "The Scavenger Bride." It has taken me a long time to get here, and I couldn't be happier. So thank you for joining me on this journey. Please let me know what you think!

Speaking of thanks, I would like to give CRAZY FREAKING MIND-BLOWING MAD PROPS to The Smiling Shadow, who has the INSANE ability to write West PERFECTLY, whereas I struggle and fight and howl and bleed and can barely scratch him out on paper. I pride myself on staying as true to canon and character as humanly possible. But the West she writes is the West we know from the movie. And it is that West that I have tried so very desperately to honor in this story. In her piece, "On the Subject of Love," which I desperately suggest you read, a topic covered really got my mind working. I was inspired by this piece because of not only her innate ability to write West, but of something mentioned in the story, which, through the gracious allowance of the author herself, I quote here:

_"'The man cannot have a child.' Herbert said. 'Yet the woman cannot give life to her child without the man. Both need each other. In the eyes of nature men and women are both needed and neither is more important than the other. If I were to love a woman I would worship her, for she gives life to our child, and she would worship me for I give her the part she requires. We would be equal in our worship and our praise and our respect and our love. Neither of us would be more important than the other, we would not compete against one another, for we both need each other.'_

_ The room was silent in the dim light as Herbert West stared at people who seemed more like strangers than friends. But Dan leaned forward and smiled so slightly._

_ 'For someone who doesn't know anything about anything, that was pretty spot on.'"_

It is a gorgeous piece, and I thank The Smiling Shadow a thousand times for her beautiful work. :)

This being said, there are things that happen in this story I am quite anxious about. Things I feel West would have probably never done, but, given the above and given the circumstances set forth in the story, I feel his character has grown and adapted and expanded and evolved. It is my sincerest hope that I have done him justice.

As with most (if not all) of my other stories, some chapters will have footnotes at the bottom that discusses what music inspired me to write the story, as well as specific scenes. A soundtrack, of sorts!

PLEASE NOTE: If, by chance, you're reading along and you stumble upon Imogen referring to someone named Michele - "Who the hell is that?!" - It's Shelley, her cousin. There was a name change early on in the story and I tried to get as many as I could changed out but I may have missed one or two here or there. Sorry!

And so, without further ado, I present to you, "The Scavenger Bride." Enjoy.

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 1: Ideal Bounds

_"Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break  
__through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world."  
__~ "Frankenstein," by Mary Shelley_

Innsmouth was a gem when the sun went down.

Her lights twinkled alone, sparkling off the water like diamonds in different shades of blue, orange and yellow. I watched the waves dance off the side of the ship, letting it lull me into a false state of relative calm, despite the terror that gripped my heart. I'd never been more afraid in all my life - my head swam and my heart was ice. I could see the future like I could see what was ten feet in front of me…. I may as well have been blind. The horn sounded, and as the ship rumbled to life below us, we turned and faced the darkness together.

xxxxxxxxxx

_"It shouldn't take long, you know, after injection… I've seen it take anywhere from ten seconds to a full five minutes for the body to reanimate….."_

"Phillips."

_"Is there a difference? I mean, between the body that took ten seconds and the one that took five minutes."_

_ West's eyes furrowed. "Not generally. It all depends-"_

"Excuse me!"

I gave a shout and jumped clean out of my seat. "Twenty seconds! It- it takes…." In the time it took me to flip my lid and spit out the first thing that came to my exhausted mind, I glanced around the classroom to find everyone staring at me. And when I looked down at my notebook, I found I'd colored in a syringe with my green hi-lighter in the margins of my notes. Dr. Wendell stood over me, annoyance etched across her face. My heart sank.

"Dr. Wendell, ma'am, I'm very sorry. Could you repeat the question for me?"

"Dr. Phillips, I suggest you come to class prepared. You have been a stellar student thus far, so consider this your 'Get Out of Jail for Free' pass." I took a breath to thank her, but she cut me off. "Mind you, there's only one in a pack."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

"Now. The question." Dr. Wendell calmly made her way back up to the front of the class. "An acute myocardial infarction, more commonly referred to as a heart attack, is caused by a multitude of things. Stress. Fear. A patient brought to me last year suffered an AMI after coming home to his sixty-fifth surprise birthday. What, Dr. Phillips, are some of the common indicators that an AMI are making a sneak attack upon the human body?"

"Um. Indicators. Yes." I took a deep breath, shut my eyes and emptied my mind. I cleared my throat and recalled back to the study session Meg and I had had the night before as I fiddled with the charm bracelet around my wrist. "Let's see. Palpitations…"

"Yes…" Dr. Wendell nodded, and I continued.

"Sweating…. anxiety, shortness of breath…. chest pain…."

"Very good, Dr. Phillips, thank you." Dr. Wendell gave me a smile. She directed her words to everyone. "I know these questions seem very….. first semester, if you will….." This caused a chuckle amongst the students. "But, as you are well aware, mid-terms are just around the corner and I want to make sure my students are prepared for anything. Anything and everything."

Prepared for anything. I swallowed hard. If only she knew.

xxxxxxxxxx

"I'm glad you at least know someone at school."

"Shelley, I've got friends," I laughed.

"Oh, I know, honey," I could hear the smile in my cousin's voice. She was staying with my aunt and uncle for awhile to help them clean out their attic, even though she only lived on the north side of Innsmouth with her husband and their five-year-old daughter, Daisy. "I know. What's that guy's name, again? The one we went to school with."

"Dan? Dan Cain, right?"

"Dan, yes. The two of you still speaking to each other?"

"Well, of course we are; we've been friends since we were kids. His girlfriend's real nice, too, she and I hang out a lot."

"Oh, that's good, that's really great." Shelley sighed, still smiling. For as long as I could remember, Shelley was always there. She was the sister I never had, the best friend, the confidant. Even though she was only four years older, she was wise well beyond her years. There was something about her that made me think she'd been here before.

"So how are you, anyhow?" I asked. "How's life back in Innsmouth? Little Daisy?"

"Uuh, well- Dee is great. But here, it's-" There was a sound on her end then, a crash as if something fell or was dropped. "Stimulating. Clearly. You know our home as well as I do, it doesn't change much. Kinda like Arkham, I guess. And it seems as if the timing of your call is perfect; Mom and Dad are on a tear again."

I smiled as the distant voices of my aunt and uncle reached my ears. There was shuffling and thudding and other various sounds. "Jane, I told you again and again, Randall down the street needs our mower. I need that gas can so he can re-fill it after he's done."

"How long's he been up there, anyhow?"

"A half-hour. He's gonna have a stroke, I swear to God."

Aunt Jane's voice reached my ears. "Harry. Harry!"

"What!"

"I'm buying you a new one. C'mon."

"What? No, no, it's up here."

"I don't care, get your ass down here. We're going to the store right now and I'm buying you a new one."

"Goddammit, Jane, I don't need a new one. I really just need to….."

"Shelley, put him on the phone, will you?"

"Hey, Mom, Imogen wants to talk to Dad."

"Harry, shut up for a minute and get down here! Imogen wants to talk to you."

"Well, why didn't you say so?"

"'Cos you wouldn't quit yapping."

"Eeh." There was shuffling and grumbling and then, "Immi?"

"Hi, Uncle Harry." I was grinning. My aunt and uncle, madly in love since the day they met, bickered more than any two people I'd ever known. It was hilariously endearing. After my parents died, they took me in as one of their own.

"How's college?"

"Fascinating. Keeps me up at night."

"Oh, honey, you need your sleep."

"Yeah, well tell that to my professors. And my lab partner. He's obsessed," I laughed. "I think the more time I spend studying with him, the more I believe it, too."

"Believe?" I could hear my uncle smiling.

"That anything is possible."

"Oh, but, Immi, it is."

"Yeah. I know, Harry. I'm beginning to think so, too."

xxxxxxxxxx

MUSIC:  
This story was named after a song by Black Tape For A Blue Girl, and it is a gorgeous piece you can find on YouTube. Both the title and the feel of this instrumental piece themselves contribute to the feel and the tone of the story.

The original two-shot that started this story, titled "Uninvited," was named after a song of the same name by Alanis Morissette. It is gorgeous!

Also, there is a song by Kings of Leon called "Closer" and it is SO PERFECT in terms of setting the mood for a place like Lovecraft Country (Arkham, Innsmouth, Dunwitch, Kingsport, etc).


	2. The Journalist

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 2: The Journalist

It had been a long day at school, one I knew it would take some time to recover from. I'd called my family from the school phone in the morgue before ambling into my car and heading home. Arkham was was a quiet town, despite the urban legends that whispered through the foothills. In fact, to one who wasn't in on such legends, the town would seem quite harmless. And for most of us, it was. And as such, it didn't frighten me much anymore, not since moving into town at eighteen to start my first year at Miskatonic.

All that changed once I met Herbert.

I started to believe. Drunken fishermen who tell stories of creatures that are half-fish, half-man who climb out of the sea to attack their docked trawlers aren't as believable unless you were to see such creatures with your own eyes. But when you walk in on your lab partner breathing new life into the dead body of a cat, your whole perspective changes, and all the things you think you know get turned on their head. Adaptability becomes a necessity, and in Arkham, she is your ally.

As fate would have it, about three months after Herbert and I started working together in the lab, a water pipe on the third floor of my apartment building burst; by the time it was reached, it had destroyed half of the building - including my apartment. Most of my things were destroyed, and I ended up having to buy all new furniture. Dan had long-since moved out of the house to live with Meg, and, having relinquished all responsibilities to Herbert, left him in charge of whom he could rent the spare room to. Herbert had been the one to suggest I take the room; "The two of us spend all our extra time studying here anyway. You may as well move in." And it wasn't just schoolwork he was helping me with. I was helping him, too - slowly but surely, little piece by little piece, he began to teach me his secrets. He was extremely apprehensive at first to teach me, despite having initially agreed to do so. But in the year we'd lived together, he had begun to open up, and now he had zero hesitancy when it came to discussing his work with me. We'd been working on small animals, ones found on the side of the road that had fallen victim to traffic, and it had only been in the past three or so months that we'd graduated to humans. The first one was a vagrant that had up and died at a bus stop on the outside of Dunwich. Herbert had been sent to the town by the university to recover some extra supplies the morgue was running low on, and he took me with him so we could make a weekend out of it. It was horrifying for me at first. I could barely work, and Herbert was beyond frustrated with me. But I didn't want to disappoint him. I bit down and got it done. And with each body, it got a little bit easier….

I pulled into the driveway about ten or so minutes later. Once inside, I threw down my keys and pulled off my jacket, enjoying the silence and relative darkness that dusk created in our little house. The only man-made light I could see was that of the lamps from the work-room down in the basement. The lights shone brightly from under the door, and I could hear West working. He was at it again. I smiled in spite of myself, and wondered silently what in the world my thought processes were behind agreeing to be his roommate. Outside the fascination, that is. The utter, terrifyingly beautiful fascination I had with the bright greenish-yellow liquid in those little vials…. the fascination with the idea of it all, and the fascination with _him_…..

I shook the fog from my mind and hit the lights to the hallway, making my way to the kitchen. I wanted to eat before Meg came over; we wanted to go see a movie. Fixing myself a sandwich, I sat down with my textbook and began to read and eat. The front door opened and footsteps echoed on the landing. I smiled. _She's early._

"Hey, Meg, I'm in here. I'm nearly done eating and then we can bounce."

"You're going out?"

My heart stopped at the sound of West's voice. I leaned back, mid-bite, to glance down the hallway. There he stood, coat still on, bag still slung over his shoulder. He hadn't even shut the door yet. My mind struggled to prop itself back up on its feet as the questioning look on his face shifted with mine to the basement door.

There was rummaging going on down there. A cough. A gasp. I looked back up at my lab partner and swallowed my food. With lightening speed, West's bag was on the floor and he was sprinting for the basement.

"Do- West, wait!" I tripped over my words and was suddenly throwing myself down the stairs after him. My heart was slamming. The young man had a bottle of re-agent in his had and was investigating the test tubes with terrified eyes when West and I came barreling in. He jumped clean out of his skin.

"What the devil is going on here? Trespassing, huh?"

"Wh- what - what the fuck _is _this shit?!" The man was trembling. He pushed his blonde hair out of his eyes as he held out the bottle of re-agent.

"Who the hell are you?"

"K-Kevin Gregorson. I'm a journalism major at Miskatonic. What is this? What's going on?"

"We should ask you the same thing, this is our house!" I shrieked. "Get out!"

"There's a dead cat over-"

"What, are you deaf? Did you not hear what she said? GET OUT!" West roared, toppling a gurney as Kevin screamed. That was all it took. The kid bolted with West hot on his heels. I scrambled up after them.

"And don't ever think about coming back, you little punk!" West shouted after him as he sprinted down the street.

"Oh, my God, you guys, what's going on?" Meg stood on the porch, her eyes wide.

West, on edge, turned to look at her over his shoulder. I shot him a glare. Putting my hands on his shoulders, I guided him back indoors. "West, I'll handle her. And while you're down there-" I dropped my voice to a whisper. "- get rid of the damn cat!" Then, a little louder, "Now, go back inside!" He didn't need to be told twice. He made a beeline for the basement, slamming its door behind him.

"What in the world…?"

"An intruder," I panted, putting my hands on my hips.

"Intru…?"

"Yeah, the kid broke in, thinking we had drugs or something. I dunno." I shrugged. "I'm sure he-" It hit me quickly, and without warning, much like the heart attacks Dr. Wendell quizzed us over that day. "Shit. Oh, _shit!"_

"The re-agent!" West was sprinting out the door the moment it hit me, down the street in the general direction in which Kevin had gone.

"West!" I shrieked after him. "For God's sake - _West!_" I swore again under my breath. If that kid figured out West's work, we were screwed. And then another worry surfaced…..

_Oh, Herbert, please be safe._

"Imogen, what the hell is going on here, anyway?!"

"Meg, I- he just took something of West's! That's all, okay?! Now, can we go inside, please?"

She shot me an uneasy glance, but did what I told her. "You should call the cops, Immi, I'm serious-"

"And I am, too, when I tell you that that is the _first_ thing I'm doing once West gets home."

"Immi, listen, do you want to reschedule this whole 'going out' thing? I'm always free later this week…"

"Oh, Meg…"

"No, I'm serious, if it would help."

"That- actually, that would be great. I wanna make sure this whole thing gets sorted out."

"Yeah, yeah, you bet." She was backing up for the door, and something about her was uneasy. Unsure.

"Meg…."

"Yeah?"

"Are you…. well…. What I mean, is… West can be a bit strange, I realize."

"He's…. the strangest person I've ever met."

"I know, and I can agree with you on that. But…. are you okay with me being his roommate?"

Meg smiled. "Immi, why wouldn't I be? He may be strange, but everyone needs the help around here, what with rent being so high."

"Yeah," I sighed, grinning. "You're right."

"Hey, are you okay?" She stepped forward, putting a hand out for my arm.

"Oh, I'm- I'm fine, really," I perpetuated the grin, and really meant it. "You can count on it."

"Okay." She smiled back. "Well. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure, sure. Have a safe trip home."


	3. The Search for a Cure

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 3: The Search for a Cure

Hours rolled by. I flopped around on the couch, alone and worried. I'd made the decision to stay on the couch so I would know when West got back. While I flopped around I thought about what might be happening. Had West found Kevin? Had he gotten the re-agent back? Where was he? Was everything okay? _God, I hope he hasn't hurt that kid…_

Again, my hand went to the bracelet on my wrist….. I didn't wear it every day, but it was close enough. The thing had belonged to my mother and it was the last piece of her I had. I'd recently noticed I'd fidget with it whenever I got anxious. And right then, I was anxious as hell. I worried so much about West.

And then the proverbial lightbulb went _click_ inside my head. I sat up.

"What the hell am I doing?" I shook my head, getting off the couch and wrapping myself in my blanket. I hadn't gotten two steps when the front door clicked and opened, making me gasp and jump.

"West?" I whispered.

"Who else would it be?" He breathed quietly. The lamp by the door came on and I winced in surprise. My eyes gave a twang of discomfort at the sudden light, and I shielded them from it. When they focused again, I looked at my roommate. His shirt was ruffled, his tie loose around his neck, and his hair was a mess. He looked winded, exhausted, and he looked me over curiously.

"Have you been sleeping on the couch?" He reached over and pulled a down feather from my hair. I pulled away and snatched it up.

"Trying to. Where have you been?"

"Huh," was all West said at first, eyeing me suspiciously as he headed for the kitchen. I followed him in, leaning against the doorframe as he answered my question. "Well, I went all over campus, trying to find him. I went to a social gathering at one of the fraternities-"

"You went to a party?" I smiled, bemused.

"A par- ugh," He rolled his eyes at me and scoffed, then turned back to rifle through the fridge. The tiny bulb therein gave the kitchen little light; Herbert's face was illuminated for a brief moment. "Kevin was not in attendance. One of the women tried to have me drink an alcoholic beverage. I told her I was busy studying."

"Was she pretty?" I had to stifle a laugh. West never was one for 'gathering socially.'

West scoffed again, harder this time, clearly more agitated with my lack of serious focus. He turned to face me, allowing the fridge door to shut behind him as he crossed his arms over his chest. The kitchen was plunged back into darkness. "You know, would it kill you to take this seriously?"

"I'm sorry," I allowed for a chuckle initially, and then stifled it, walking in towards my roommate. "You know what, you're right, West, and I really am sorry." He frowned at me sourly, and I continued. "But you know what? The reason I'm so nonchalant about all of this is because I'm certain that Gregorson kid wouldn't know what to do with the re-agent if it reared its ugly head and bit him in the ass."

Something happened then, something I'd seen maybe twice before in the year or so I'd known West. Something that made my ego inflate a bit, considering it was the biggest challenge I knew: I made West smile a little. And it wasn't just any smile - it was honest. Even in the darkness of our little kitchen I saw it creep up the left side of his mouth slightly. It was fleeting, though; a "blink and you'll miss it" moment of glory for myself, and in that moment, his face was back to its usual stoic look.

"Ooh-" I grinned and pointed at him.

"What?"

"There it is. Er, was. It was right there."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He was a terrible liar. At least when it was me he was lying to. Anyone else, and they wouldn't have known any better. But not me. His expression softened again and I could see that little smile begging to come back.

"Right there!" I pointed at the corner of his mouth. "So it _is_ possible to make the stoic Herbert West smile." Grinning triumphantly, I placed my hands on my hips, and West smiled again, his eyes falling to the linoleum floor. "Hey. West." I put a hand on his arm, and when he looked back up to meet my eyes, his face, although devoid of smile, was calm. "I know this is your work, but don't beat yourself up about it. We're gonna find this guy, okay? Nothing's gonna happen to that re-agent."

West nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"Well." I nodded proudly. "I feel like I've accomplished something today." I patted his shoulder, then turned for the hallway and yawned as I pulled the blanket in around me. "I'm going to bed. You should, too. You look like you could use some sleep. We'll figure out this whole mess tomorrow."

He made a sound of agreement, and quietly slipped off to the basement.

xxxxxxxxxx

"You look terrible. Did you sleep at all?" I caught up with West as we slipped out of autopsy lab the next day. There were dark circles under his eyes. I had to nearly jog just to keep up.

"Some."

"Define 'some.'"

"Three hours and thirty-seven minutes."

"Dude," I scoffed. "That-"

"I am well aware of the necessity of the REM cycle, Phillips," West snapped at me. "So don't bother lecturing me. I get enough of that from Dr. Hill."

"What the fuck, West?" I planted myself in the middle of the hallway.

He stopped and turned back to me brusquely. "Phillips, this is _far_ too important for me to sleep over."

"What, getting back-" My voice was rising and I toned it down as a cluster of freshmen breezed through us. "Getting back that re-agent? It's not up for debate, West. We. Will. Get. It. Back!"

He glared at me, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "Look, I'm not in the mood to discuss this with you now, when-"

"Dr. West." We turned at the sound of our professor's voice. She gave a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry. The cadavers, you… you're the only one….."

"Of course, Dr. Ferguson," he sighed, resigned. "I'll be right in." Once she ducked back into the classroom he turned back to me. "Now, I need to put these bodies in the incinerator. Lord knows I'm the only one with the gall enough to get it done. We'll discuss this at home." And off he went.

"What's up his ass?"

It was Dan, leaning against the far wall and making a face. I rolled my eyes. "Ugh. Who the fuck knows? He's on a kick and PMS'ing again. C'mon, let's get out of here." We turned and headed for the exit.

Dan laughed suddenly. "Hey, you remember when we were kids and my parents took us all out to our little vacay home in Rawley?"

"Which time?" I laughed with him. "There were so many."

"There were, I know," Dan grinned, opening the door for us. We stepped out into the cool fall air, away from the sour smell of the morgue. "But, you know, that time when my sister met that boy from the general store down the road."

"Oh, God, the one with the weird-"

"Yes, yes!" Dan and I howled in laughter, reveling in the memory. "Well, apparently that _kid _is now the head of some major television corporation in, like, London or somewhere."

"Shut up!"

"I'm serious!"

I shook my head incredulously. "That's amazing. I'd have never guessed. I thought he'd surely end up owning some sort of voodoo shop in New Orleans or something." I mulled over memory after memory. "God, I love that house. It's been too long."

"I know," Dan moaned sadly. "One day we'll both go off and get married and have kids, and then they'll all have their own memories of that house, too."

Dan and I shared a smile as we kept walking through the layers of fall leaves. We enjoyed the cool silence for awhile before Dan piped up again.

"So what's it like?"

"What's what like?"

"Living with him. With West. I mean, I know you guys have been living together for awhile now."

"A year, yeah." I shrugged. "I dunno. It's not that bad, really. I'm kinda de-sensitized to it now, I guess. We bicker, we debate, we get along. Actually, a good ninety-nine percent of the time I can't even tell I have a roommate." I hated that last part, that lie. I hated lying to Dan.

He looked at me, not completely convinced. "Really."

"What, you don't believe me?"

"Not about the ninety-nine percent part. I know West. Know him better than most… yet I barely know anything about him. I know enough to tell you're lying."

"Alright, Cain, what is it I'm lying about, then?"

"You see more of him than you're letting on."

"If you're implying we're in a rela-"

"No, no," Dan made a face and waved the notion aside. He laughed then as the thought sunk in further. "Believe me, I know West well enough to know he'd _proooobably _not have a girlfriend."

"Oh?" I feigned partial disinterest, sincerely hoping Dan would expand upon his comment. I kept my head forward and my pace brusque. I knew he would be able to keep up.

"Yeah, he's just too obsessive. Oh, don't tell me that reputation of his hasn't reached your ears yet. I wouldn't believe you if you told me that, especially since the two of you are living together now. He's obsessed. Obsessed with finding a cure."

I stopped down by the Miskatonic river, at the end of the park. Fall leaves danced down the sidewalk past us. Looking Dan in the eye I didn't stop him, much less say anything when he was finished. But he wouldn't budge, I knew he wouldn't unless I asked. So I did.

"A cure for what?"

"I can't believe I'm explaining this to you." Dan shook his head, glancing around him. "After he asked me to work with him, and after I turned him down, I was certain he'd find someone else. It's you. I know it is. And don't sit there and try and convince me-"

"A cure for _what,_ Dan?"

"You already know. I don't need to tell you."

"And I don't think I need to verify your theories for you, either." Why should I keep lying to him when he already knew?

Dan's eyes grew wide as it sunk in. "I knew it." His voice was quiet. "Goddammit, Imogen… I knew it. My best friend," he murmured. "In lieu with the devil." We stood in each other's company for some minutes before Dan hung his head and turned in the direction of his dorm. He took two steps and stopped short. I could practically see the wheels in his head rotating. He turned back to me, and I could almost sense an air of sadness about him. It was new.

"I sure hope you know what you've gotten yourself into, Immi."


	4. Dark and Stormy Night

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 4: Dark and Stormy Night

I arrived home that night in a haze. The conversation with Dan still haunted me, yet I found I couldn't stop. Not now, at least. I was too far down the rabbit hole to ever resurface unscathed. After all, I'd already helped him reanimate nearly a dozen human bodies in the time we'd known each other. It was something I was learning to accept, as much as I may have fought it at times. My life was his now…..

I pulled off my sweatshirt. "West?" I called out for my roommate, letting the front door swing shut behind me. The house lights were on, and I knew he was home.

"Hmm." West stepped out smartly from his bedroom, adjusting his shirt collar as he read over a handful of notes. He took a moment to glance up at me and look me over. "You're home." And then it was back to the notes. He headed for the basement, still engrossed.

I scoffed, yet couldn't resist a smile. "Thanks, honey, my day was great. Oh, you made dinner?" I tossed my keys onto the table next to me. "You shouldn't have." Sighing, I trudged down into the basement after him.

"What's that?" West, still lost in paper, called for clarification from the basement as I made my way down the stairs.

"Oh, nothing." He glanced up at me curiously and silently, but only for another brief moment before shrugging. "What you workin' on?" I asked, picking up a beaker full of bright green liquid. It was much darker than the re-agent I was used to. West snatched it up out of my hands within seconds and went around to the other side of the lab table, placing it back in it's rightful spot. He leaned against the table, put down the notes and looked across and into my eyes.

"We're going out."

"Oh? Are we?" I couldn't help but smile.

"I've perfected the re-agent, and I want to make sure it's good. But I refuse to waste it on such smaller creatures. We're going to the morgue."

I sighed. "Do you remember what happened the last time we went to the morgue, West?"

"Hmm. Yes. Good point." His brow furrowed as he thought it over. Then he looked back up to me, the proverbial light bulb having gone off over his head. "The cemetery."

"Aaaand…. those aren't the freshest of specimens," I frowned.

"Well, as it so happens, the university got in a bit of an overflow in donated medical bodies, and some of them had to be disposed of. The ones that weren't claimed. It will have to do for now."

"Disposed of?"

"Buried. In the back of the cemetery."

"Dude, there's a storm rolling in."

West shrugged. "I'm sorry, Phillips. It'll have to do for now."

We walked silently, albeit quickly, for at least two blocks, and that's when I finally spoke. "You found that Kevin kid yet?"

West shook his head. "But I found his address. Didn't take much. I'm going there tomorrow to take back what is rightfully mine."

"You better. I'd hate anyone else to get their hands on that shit."

My roommate looked at me, hints of surprise and bemusement fleeting over his face in a mere instant. "Well there needn't be any worry. Gregorson won't pose an issue for us again."

"Good." I found myself laughing internally, and a small smile started to creep over my face. I felt like a badass. West turned to look me in the eye as we walked, and he grinned at me. He actually _grinned. _And that's when I finally laughed aloud.

"Alright, Einstein, what master plan do you have concocted in that head of yours?"

"This way." My roommate wasted no time. Handing me the shovels, he wended through the rows of tombstones until he finally found the group he was looking for. The sun was so far gone, I marveled at how he managed to find them. My skin was crawling as a breeze came up to meet us, and I looked up to watch the clouds roll in.

"Phillips!"

"What!"

"We need to hurry," he took one of the shovels from me. "If we're going to be home by sunrise, we need to get started as quickly as possible."

"You mean we're gonna do it all right here?!"

"Well- yes! What, do you want to _drag_ a corpse home?"

"Oh, for God's sake."

"Look, I'm tired of arguing with you, Phillips. Come on, help me find one. Remember, it needs to be as fresh as possible."

"You make it sound like we're on the produce aisle." I watched West pull off his coat. "How do you do this, anyhow?"

"Do what?" West was already engrossed in searching for the perfect specimen, checking the dates and times on each of the makeshift wooden headstones.

"Just…. you know. Bring them back. How does it not affect you? I mean, you saw me that first time we reanimated somebody - you remember her - and then in the beginning, when I walked in on you and Dan's cat…."

West gave a short laugh. "Mm, yes, I remember that. As I recall, you blacked out."

"I'm well aware of the events, West," I smiled teasingly.

"Well you've certainly come a long way since then, now, haven't you?"

I allowed for a giggle then. The moon was going in and out of hiding behind large storm clouds. From the bright glow of what little moonlight we had left I could see his face soften into that little smile. I found I loved making him smile, since it didn't happen too often - he was too engrossed in his work ninety-nine percent of the time. I was so lost in thought that a clap of thunder and flash of lightening made me yelp, and I toppled over one of the tombstones. I shot back up onto my feet to find West glaring at me. I frowned, his smile gone.

"Dammit, Phillips, quit screwing around. Come over here and help me dig. I found one."

I gulped and took my time. Tossing his coat over the neighboring tombstone, West rolled up his sleeves and began to shovel the dirt away. My heart began to pound. _This is really happening, isn't it?_

Grabbing the extra shovel, I fell in line next to him and began to dig.

A silent half hour later it began to rain lightly. We had to hurry to get the coffin uncovered or else the mud would be too much to get through. We finally made it in just shy of forty-five minutes, and it was a good thing, too, because we were both getting tired, and that was when the rain really began to pour down.

"Alright, help me with the top," West had to practically shout over the sound of the storm. We hunkered down and, using our shovels, we managed to pry open the lid of the coffin with enough effort. A wave of ripe rot hit me and I gagged, scrambling out onto high ground. Falling to my knees, I covered my mouth and shut my eyes, steadying myself internally. Some days the smell got to me; some days, it didn't.

"Don't chicken out on me now, Phillips! C'mon. I need you." I turned to glance over at my roommate. His voice was different….. calmer. He was standing on the coffin, which, from my angle, since said coffin was still in its grave, allowed me to only see him from the chest up. He was covered in dirt and mud, and he wiped some from his face. There was honesty in his eyes, and the frustration was gone. West held out a hand to me. "C'mon."

I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut for a split second. _Badass, remember? _Turning back to him, I went back to work. According to what was etched on the wooden tombstone in front of us, the man buried beneath us had been underground for a mere six hours, and dead for almost nine. I was amazed there had been no one to claim him; he looked young. Didn't he have a wife or a sibling or a parent or a friend out there, worried about him? It was something I didn't have time to mull over long; West called out for me to help lift him out. I scrambled up top, hovering over the grave. As my roommate lifted him up I grabbed the man's arms, pulling him up and over the edge and onto the muddy grass outside. I was on my feet and West was beside me in an instant, the both of us panting. "Get the bag, Phillips. And don't let the notes get wet."

West lifted the corpse up into a sitting position, and I pulled out a syringe and a vial of re-agent from his bag. "Okay. I really hate working on the fly like this, but….." He fell silent for a moment, muttering under his breath. "Fifteen cc's. That should do it. Phillips, get it ready."

Doing as I was told, I handed him the full syringe. I put the vial of re-agent back in the bag and lifted it up over my shoulder, backing away a little. West stopped. He looked up at me suddenly, and he offered up the syringe.

"You do it."

"What?!"

"Yes!"

"Are you crazy? I can't- I've never-"

"Yes, you can!" Another crack of lightening flashed across the night sky. "I've taught you as much as I can thus far, it's the next logical step!" When I stood there and did nothing but gawk at him, he continued. "Phillips! C'mon!"

I gingerly made my way over and took the needle from him. Looking into his eyes, he nodded. "You can do this. Right there; you know the drill," he pointed at the base of the man's neck. Taking a deep breath I plunged the needle into the back of the man's neck and injected the vibrant yellowish-green liquid into his spine. Laying him back down, West stood up and looked at his watch as I scrambled backwards. I had enough wherewithal to cap the needle and toss it back into the bag before I really started shaking.

"Fifteen seconds….." West announced, coming to stand next to me. I held my breath. Lightning flashed and thunder crashed, and the man didn't move.

Eight seconds later - the longest eight seconds of my life - the man gave a lurch, and I screamed.

"Twenty-three seconds! Did you see that, Phillips? Look!" West was grinning maniacally as he made his way around to the corpse's other side. Growling, the man got to his feet. He was twitching like crazy and had trouble walking, but he looked at me and looked at West and howled.

"What's your name?" West shouted to him.

"What the hell, West, now you wanna have a philosophical conversation with him?!" I shrieked. "What's your plan for _this_, genius?"

"It's strictly for studying purposes, Phillips!"

The man lunged at me. Shrieking again, I dodged out of the way. "Don't worry," West called out for me. "They're generally pretty slow. Remember?"

He had just enough time to give me an encouraging smile. It was almost as if the man had understood him - he turned and glowered at West, baring his teeth. He roared again, lunging for my roommate, who was completely taken by surprise. West was knocked backwards, hitting his head on one of the wooden tombstones. He cried out, and then the thing was on top of him. "Gaah! Phillips-" The creature's hands were around West's neck then. It all happened so fast, I didn't know what to do at first. West looked to me and mustered a "Help!"

What happened next happened so very fast, as well. Snatching up the shovel, I took a running start and swung the heavy thing around, knocking the man clean off his feet and sending him sprawling next to West. He lay there on his back, stunned, trying to get back up, and I put myself over him, ramming my heel into his chest and taking his head off with the shovel.

If I'd felt like a badass before, I felt like a freaking goddess then, and it was at that moment, standing over my roommate, who looked up at me with wide eyes and a look of wonder and amazement on his face I'd never seen before, that I finally and fully understood the madness in his head. I felt it coarse through my veins like fire, making my heart and mind come alive with the idea of all the possibilities. And damn, did it feel good.

xxxxxxxxxx

MUSIC:  
There are two songs that, I feel, perfectly capture the creepy intensity of the work that Herbert and Imogen do, two songs that inspired me in any of those scenes. The first is "Session," an instrumental piece by Linkin Park, and the second is "Excess" by Tricky. Both have awesome, solid beats to them and it's hard to describe how great they are without you actually hearing them, so hit up YouTube! :)


	5. Snooping Around

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 5: Snooping Around

Most of the walk home was done in silence, outside of our footsteps and the light tinkling of my silver bracelet against my wrist. The rain had stopped, as had the thunder; an occasional, small flash of faraway lightening lit up the sky, but for the most part, we were in the clear. We'd re-buried the body and the head and covered our tracks as well as anyone could. I shuddered in the damp air at the fresh memory.

"Jesus, I could use a cigarette."

West looked at me incredulously. "You don't smoke, Phillips, do you?"

"No, but after what just happened, would you put it past me?"

"Huh," West made a sound of understanding. "You make a valid argument."

I smiled, and fell silent for a few moments before giving a chuckle. "Pretty docile, huh?"

"Alright," West frowned sourly, jumping on the defensive. "I'll admit, I wasn't paying full attention then. But….." He quieted then, throwing me a glance. "Thank goodness I had my assistant with me." He allowed for a little smile, and I took it as a thank you.

I chuckled again. "You're welcome," I smiled back at him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Tensing up a bit, he made an 'I'm not so sure about this' face but we kept walking. "We make a pretty good team, don't we, West?"

He relaxed a little, and that smile came back again. Clearly, a precedence had been broken again. "Hmm. Yes, we do, don't we?"

At that point we'd made it to our porch. I pulled out my keys and let us in, hitting the little lamp to the side of the sofa, and made a beeline for the bathroom. "I won't be long, West. I'm gonna get out of these damp clothes, then the bathroom's all yours." He nodded curtly in response.

When I was done, West went in to change, as well, and I went to the kitchen for some food. It wasn't until the walk home that the realization occurred to me I'd not had any dinner. "West," I called out for him down the hall. "You eat before I got home? I can make some food."

His muffled voice reached my ears from the bathroom. "Uh- no, thank you. I mean, yes, I ate earlier."

I was too tired to cook, so I ended up just throwing together a sandwich. It would do. West sat at the table with me as I ate, and we talked about what had happened.

"You did well tonight, Phillips."

"You think so?" I smiled at him, and he nodded. Downing the rest of my water, I went to put my plate in the sink.

"I, ahem…." West cleared his throat, coming in towards me, and I could immediately tell he was nervous, trying to find the right words to say. Social interactions and personal relationships were never prevalent in his life; it was always work, work, work. I stood silently, attentively, spending extra time rinsing off my plate and cup. Enough time to allow him to gather his thoughts. "I'm very….. well, I'm glad, really, that I have you to count on. You've really turned out to be…. quite good at this, actually." I could hear the amusement in his voice on that last part. I turned to face him and found he stood a lot closer than I'd initially assumed. He couldn't have been more than two or three feet from me. I smiled, and to my surprise, he continued. "And….. thank you. Honestly."

I did something then that shocked the hell out of me. Not that knocking a man out and then beheading him with a shovel wasn't shocking. But what I did next wasn't planned, it was a total surprise; yet it made sense to me. It was something I knew had been clawing its way out for a long time.

Moving a little closer, I leaned in and I kissed him. I wasn't sure which surprised me more, the fact that I did it or the fact that, when I did, he didn't move or raise any objections. It was all very strange, and unsure at first; it had been so long since I'd been with a man, and Lord knows if West had ever been with anybody. I kissed him tentatively at first, and then it deepened. Was that his hand on my hip? I responded, sliding my hand around his neck and moving closer to him until our bodies met. The kiss intensified…..

And I pulled away then, when something deep inside me ignited, telling me it was getting out of hand as I forced myself back. West let out a little gasp as the words tumbled out of my mouth instantly. "Oh my God, West, I'm so sorry, I- I shouldn't have done that. I just- um…."

It was West's turn to stand gawking, still reaching for me, and I knew then that it had been a mistake. "Uh- well, I…." I don't even think the man had been caught speechless before in all his life, either. It looked as if the night had turned out to be something new for us both.

"I, um…." I cleared my throat. "I think I'm gonna go to bed, actually."

"Yeah- Um. I will, too."

"Okay."

"Alright."

"Ugh," I felt like such an idiot. I was so embarrassed. "I'm really sorry, West, I…"

Swallowing hard, he shook his head and waved it aside sympathetically. "Y- it-it's fine." It was clear he was still trying to recover. He leaned against one of the kitchen chairs to stabilize himself.

"Yeah?"

All he could do was nod, and we sheepishly mustered what smile we could. I sulked off to my bedroom, leaving him to stand, still speechless, in the middle of the kitchen.

xxxxxxxxxx

The sun shone brightly through the living room as I stumbled from my room the next morning. I rubbed my eyes and thought about making breakfast as I felt my stomach rumble again. But I felt gross. I hadn't washed my face or brushed my teeth the night before, and I felt I needed it then more than ever, even if I didn't get dressed that day. _Thank God for teacher inservice days,_ I thought as I pulled my curls back away from my face, shut myself up in the bathroom and started the water. We had three days with no class, studying or anything. Perfect amount of time to recover from the night before.

When I emerged fresh and clean, I decided to wake up West to see if he wanted food, too. Surely he had to be hungry, as well. I knocked on his door. "West?" I called quietly, and when he didn't answer, I knocked again. Still nothing, so I went down into the basement. Most of the time he fell asleep at his desk anyway, and that's where I found him again. He'd been up writing long past the time in which I'd slipped off to bed, and he lay slumped over his desk. Notes were strewn everywhere; his glasses were in his hand and his hair was a mess. I smiled, plopping down in the seat next to him.

"You know, you're kinda cute when you're asleep," I murmured, putting my chin in my hand. I glanced down at the notes he had splayed out in front of him. Some were strictly formulas, math equations that spanned pages, and then something else caught my eye. A journal was open next to his glasses, its dark green binding careworn and stained. I picked it up and turned to the first page. It was dated the day we started classes together. From nearly the beginning, there was mention of me, but the first person Herbert spoke of was Dan, his old partner and roommate.

_"Cain shows no respect for the craft. He is flighty, headstrong. He wants out, and has no interest in continuing. I must find a new assistant if I am to complete my work here." _

I flipped forward a few pages. This one was dated sometime the next week. _"The woman in back of class, I'd not noticed her before today. Her name is Imogen Phillips. There's something about her I feel as if I can trust. We have been assigned lab partnership and when I spoke to her she seemed to hold an intelligence that far surpassed the general schmuck that disgraces the halls of this establishment." _

The next day: _"Clearly, I have underestimated this Phillips. She certainly is tenacious. I'll have to keep my eye on her."_

The entry went on to describe the rest of class, and the entries thereafter were filled with accounts of his work, and the watch he was keeping over me. If I didn't know any better, gauging from the entries I went on to read, I'd say he was beginning to feel somewhat of a fondness for me, even. Then, I reached the night before.

_"Phillips continues to show great signs of progress. Her work on the corpse in the cemetery went well, although she was quite shaky. The nervousness is clearly waning, although it's taken her long enough. I was amazed and proud and grateful when she saved my life. I sense something else, though, something made all to prevalent to me when she kissed me in the kitchen after our work was done, and after the beast was put back down. I was so taken off guard, I could barely speak….. but something about it was so….. warm. I've never felt such warmth. I dare say I quite enjoyed it, yet she pulled away, and I felt quite defeated when she left. She apologized and I could tell she felt guilty about kissing me. I wonder if she knows that _**I** _don't feel guilty."_

My heart skipped and fluttered, and then for some reason I nearly felt like crying. I'd damaged him! How could I have been so cruel? I knew the poor boy didn't have many friends. It was one thing for me to go off meddling with Dr. Frankenstein's work, it was something entirely different…. getting involved with him. After all, I'd read that book, and it didn't end well for his assistant. Nor his wife, if I recalled it correctly. As a matter of fact, it didn't end well for anybody. Frankenstein himself died cold and alone.

I don't remember it, but I must have made a little sound then; something caused West to stir. I jumped and put the journal down hastily, leaning back against the table. "Hey. West." I nudged him, and his eyes fluttered open.

"Mmm….. what time is it?"

"Nearly ten."

He frowned. "I can't remember the last time I slept this late." Yawning, he stretched and rested his head in his arms on the table. Slipping on his glasses, he looked up at me sleepily.

"I'm starving," I told him. "If you are, too, I'll make you something."

"Thank you," he nodded slowly. "I would enjoy that."

"No sweat. Hey, you ever use that bed of yours? You look mighty uncomfortable sleeping on this workbench all night."

"I use it," West pouted defensively.

"Yeah? When?"

"Mmm….." He thought for a moment, but never answered.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." We shared a chuckle. "So what are you going to do? Your plans for today, I mean."

"Well, I need to go find Gregorson, remember?"

"Aah, yes. But be nice, will you?"

"He stole my re-agent! Or have you forgotten that?"

"I know, I know. Just….."

"What?"

"Well, you….. you're kinda scary sometimes." I smiled sheepishly.

"Me? Scary?" He scoffed, but I could tell he was amused.

"Maybe just a little bit," I murmured.

"Uh-huh. And just how would you define me as… 'scary?'" The look on his face told me he wasn't having any of it.

"Oh, so this whole…." I waved my hand. "You know….. bringing the dead back to life thing, this…. stoic crypticism I've become so accustomed to, this is, just…." I shrugged. "I mean, clearly, this is classified as 'normal.'"

He nodded as if to say, "And?"

I gaped at him, finally throwing up my hands. "Oh, my God. Okay, I- I'm making breakfast." I got up and made my way for the stairs. "I think I've had enough death for one day. Week." I shook my head. "Whatever. You go get that re-agent back, but I swear, if I catch wind you've done something to that boy….." I shook my finger at him on my way up, and he put his arms up innocently.

"I won't touch him, I won't!"

"Ugh, you're incorrigible, West…."


	6. I'm Not Guilty

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 6: I'm Not Guilty

Meg and Dan came over at noon, ready to go out. "Where are you guys headed?" I asked them.

"Oh, just downtown," Meg shrugged. "We were actually wanting to know if you wanted to come with us."

"You know what? That sounds great," I smiled. "You mind waiting for just a few moments?"

"No, not at all, take your time."

"Thanks, guys. I'll only be a second. Hey, have a seat-" I was interrupted by West coming up from the basement. He was sliding his coat on.

"Okay, Phillips, I'm going out to find-" He stopped short when he saw Meg and Dan. It was uncomfortable for all of them; Dan and West were at ends about medicine, and West just made Meg nervous. "Oh. I didn't realize you had company." He dropped his voice slightly, as if it would help any. "Phillips, may I speak with you, please?"

"Yeah, sure," I nodded as West turned back for the basement. I shrugged at Meg and Dan, who returned it. Meg gave me an encouraging smile.

"And shut the door," West called up. I did as he was told. His voice was quiet as he turned to face me. "What are they doing here?"

"What do you mean, 'what are they doing here?"

"I'm not…. being accusatory," West sighed. "Are you going with them?"

"Yeah, why?" I laughed. "Can't I go out, too?"

West just rolled his eyes and moved on. "I'm going to find Gregorson."

"Listen, be careful, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know: scary, right?" The frown on his face this time stung me a little harder than the others as he began to stalk off for the stairs. It was only then that the full realization came to me, the realization that my words had actually done any damage. Guilty, I grabbed his arm, also reminded (painfully) of the words written in his journal.

"West."

He turned. "What?" he inquired, almost sadly.

"I- I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Well…. you don't scare _me._ I mean, not anymore. You used to frighten me at first. You've always been so intense, it can be overwhelming sometimes." We were silent for a moment as I gathered my thoughts. "When I first started at Miskatonic I never thought I'd meet anyone like you. You're…. different. And I like it." I smiled encouragingly at him, and he smiled sheepishly back. "Being with you, it's like…. it's like an adrenaline rush. Sometimes I feel like I'm learning more from you than from the professors." This seemed to boost his mood (ego?) a little. "What can I say, West? I guess you could call yourself my mentor. And I appreciate what you've done for me. I'm not…." I chose my words carefully, recalling again the journal entry. "I'm not guilty about anything that's happened." His eyes grew a little wider and I knew I'd struck that chord in him.

"Imogen?" Meg's voice reached my ears from the top of the steps.

"Coming!" I called to Meg. Then I rushed to West, pulled him into a hug and whispered, "_That's _what I mean when I say, 'Be careful.'" With that, I smiled at him, kissed his cheek and ran for the stairs.

Second time in twenty-four hours I'd left him dumb-founded. This time, for the better, I hoped.

xxxxxxxxxx

"So- correct me if I'm wrong," Meg had a hint of a smile in her voice. "But did I catch you _hugging_ West?"

We were in the car, headed down Pickman Street and towards downtown when Meg asked, making me laugh. Dan threw me a 'what the hell?' face from the driver's seat. "Did you really?" He asked.

"Okay. So what if I did?"

"Wha- well, he's…"

"He's what?" I laughed. "Different? Strange? Creepy, arrogant, brilliant, lonely, painfully observant; Meg, there are so many words to describe him; I know, I live with the man, for goodness sake."

Meg and Dan looked at each other, impressed.

"Alright," Dan laughed. "So long as you know what you signed up for."

"I signed up for a _roommate, _Dan, after you moved out." I chuckled. "Rather, I needed a new place to stay after my house flooded and, coincidentally, my lab partner needed a roommate."

"Fair enough," Dan laughed, and we drove in silence for a few moments before Meg spoke up again. Her brow was furrowed in curiosity. "Y-you said lonely, too."

I nodded somberly. "Yeah, Meg, he's… you know, he's such a recluse. All he does is work. I guess it's taken living with him to see that lonely side of him. He…. he's needed somebody, a friend, somebody to help keep that madness of his in check."

"Stockholm Syndrome." Dan snickered. "Oh, my God, Imogen, you've got Stockholm Syndrome."

"Dan!" My whine turned into a giggle. "Don't make fun of him."

"Yeah, Dan." Meg smiled. "C'mon."

"I'm sorry," he shook his head incredulously.

Meg glanced at me from the front seat. "You like him?"

"Li- well, of course I like him. I think I can honestly say I consider him a friend."

"No," Meg laughed. "I mean, do you _like _him?"

"Oooh," I nodded. "I see what this is. Tell you what, why don't you just handcuff me to the seat."

Meg scoffed and rolled here eyes, but she was grinning. "Because you didn't _just_ hug him, you know."

"What?" Dan's eyes went wide as he glanced at his girlfriend.

"She kissed him," Meg told Dan.

_"What?!"_

"Oh, for Christ's sake. What is this, a fucking interrogation? Look, just 'cos you guys don't like him doesn't mean I can't, either."

Dan swerved the car into a parking spot just down the road form our store. Shoving the car in park, he swiveled around to look at me. "Did he ever tell you _why_ he left Austria?"

_Oh, for fuck's sake, if only you knew. _I stared him down. "He made up a story the first time he told me because he didn't know if he could trust me or not. He can now, and now he tells me everything." I could have kicked myself for that. I may have well sold us out to the police.

"What. Happened."

I shook my head.

"You know, I was his partner for a while there, too. I understand the draw. He has a way with people, when he wants something."

"Then why didn't you stay?"

"Because it's against the law! What he does, it-"

"If he can perfect it, and then take it to the Board of Medicine, he'd win the Goddamn Nobel Prize, Dan!"

Dan shook his head slowly. "I can't believe I'm hearing this from you. You, Imogen Phillips, of all people."

We climbed out of the car then, and I pulled my coat further around me. The weather was definitely turning. I was surprised neither West or myself had gotten a cold from spending so much time in the graveyard the night of the storm. Locking up the car, we started walking.

"Look, can we just forget this for now? I'm not here to argue with you guys. I need a break, I need to do something _other_ than study or go to class."

_Or unearth the dead and bring them back to life, only to kill them again._

"Oh, I know, I know," Meg frowned sympathetically. She looped her arm through mine. "I- I'm sorry I even brought it up, Immi. I don't think either of us should be one to judge you." Dan scoffed at that comment, causing Meg to shoot him a sour look. She turned back to me, smiling. "It's just that- we worry about you. We can at least worry, right?"

"Yeah, I s'pose you can…" I smiled. "Can you also trust me while you worry?"

"I think we can manage that. Dan?"

Her boyfriend sighed, shoving his hands deep in his pockets, and looked me over. "Immi, how long you and I known each other? Fifteen years?"

"Sixteen."

"Yeah. My point exactly. You've always had my trust. Our trust. And our love. It's like I said before, I just hope you know what you're doing. Just…" He came over and put my hands on my shoulders, making me look him in the eye. "_Please,_ don't do anything stupid."

In that split second, as I watched Dan walk off for the store and Meg trail behind him with a motion to follow them, I realized it was the same exact conversation I'd had with West. I realized West and I were a lot more alike than I'd initially assumed…. and that I really did have a soft spot for him.


	7. My Skin

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 7: My Skin

The day went by a lot quicker than I'd have liked. The mood lifted as soon as we'd made it to the store, and by the time they brought me back home, we were all smiling again. I'd asked them to stay for dinner, and they agreed, yet none of us wanted to cook, so we ended up stopping by for pizza to bring home. But upon arriving home, I first wanted to check in with West. I'd had fun, but in the back of my mind, something was tugging: I wanted to know how it went. If West found the kid.

But the house was dark when we got in; West's coat was still gone. There was a little pang in my heart when I realized this was one of the few times I'd ever come home to an empty house. I checked his room and the basement anyhow, and both were empty.

"Huh. I suppose he's still out. He did have a lot to do today."

"Yeah?" Meg eyed me.

"Study materials, Meg," I sighed, laughing. "Dan told you about that chemistry set of his, right?"

Meg laughed, holding up her hands in defeat. "Okay, okay. He did, yes. C'mon, let's eat!"

Dan grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat at the table with Meg as I served everyone up a few slices. We were laughing and chatting like always when I heard the front door swing open.

"West?" I called for him.

"Who else?" was his gloomy response, and I chuckled.

"Are you hungry? We brought back pizza."

"Maybe later," he sighed, rounding the corner and leaning against the doorframe. In the split second before he said his hello's to Dan and Meg, he looked at me and shrugged with an "oh, well" look on his face.

_Uh-oh. That's never good._

"Hey, um," I thought on the fly, grinning at my friends. "Since we're having such a…. _classy_ meal, how's about I go downstairs and grab us a bottle of wine? Huh?"

"Wow, Phillips, nice!" Dan laughed. "That sounds great, yeah, thanks!"

Giving me the thumbs up, Meg grinned and nodded an emphatic approval through a mouth full of pizza.

"Cool." I grinned back. "Okay, gimmie a second." Heading for the stairs, I grabbed the cuff of West's coat - "C'mon," I whispered - and dragged him downstairs with me. When we arrived at the bottom he went to his workbench and turned on the lamp.

"What's wrong, doc? You don't look so hot."

He shook his head solemnly and shrugged. "I went to his apartment and his roommate says he's been missing for two days. I've spent all afternoon and evening searching for him."

"Two….. well, that's the day he got his hands on the….."

My roommate nodded.

"West…. what are we gonna do, huh?"

"I don't know," he said softly.

"Okay… well…." I brainstormed as I went to the nook under the stairs, picking out a bottle of wine from our limited source. "I mean, look, there's nothing I can do about Dan and Meg right now. You're gonna have to let them stay for at least another hour so we can all eat. Give me at least that much, and when they go, let's put our heads together and figure this out, okay? West?" I stepped towards him and put my hands on his arms. Most of the time when he didn't get his way - and this was one of those times - he'd have a little hurricane of a fit, but not tonight. I could see the fatigue and the depression weighing heavily in his eyes as he looked at me. "Don't worry, okay? It's gonna be alright." He gave me a sad little 'thank you' of a smile, and I continued. "Now. You look hungry, so I have one question for you: cheese, or pepperoni?"

The smile of his lightened a little. "Both?"

"There we go. Now, c'mon!"

After a dinner in which no-one fought, bickered or sulked, we sat pleasantly together in the living room, watching the breeze out the window make the moonlight and tree branches dance together.

But the thing about getting four medical students together in one social gathering is that there is bound to be some sort of debate that crops up, and that night was no different. Some nights it was light, sometimes heavy, and always everything in-between.

"So, West," Meg was still giggling a little from something Dan had said, a bit loosened up from the wine. "Is there anyone?"

"Anyone…..?"

"You know. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Ah. No." West was coming out of his little cloud of depression and reverting back to the stoic West we all knew.

"No? How come?"

He seemed a tad bit impatient. Not impatient….. maybe slightly bored. I couldn't tell with him sometimes. "There is work to be done. I don't have the time, and even if I did, I don't know any….." His worlds fell short, and he became frustrated.

"Go on."

The end of his thought came out in a rush. "Anyone who would want to be with me. Look, do we….?" Yeah, there was the impatience.

"I'm sorry, West," Meg apologized honestly. "I don't mean to offend. I just realize I don't know that much about you and I want to know the man my dear friend is living with."

This answer seemed to be acceptable in West's eyes, and he nodded. "Do you not trust me?"

"Mmm…" she glanced at Dan. "I wouldn't say that, West, no. Again, no offense. I wouldn't trust the Queen of England if she came to live with her, is all."

West cracked a small, bemused smile. "What are my intentions, then, is it?"

Meg laughed. "I guess you could say that."

"We're lab partners, Miss Halsey. Lab partners, roommates. We study together after class. That is all." He glanced at me, and for some reason unbeknownst to myself I felt color rush to my cheeks as my eyes fell to my lap.

My friend began to protest, but I stopped her. "Meg….. we're friends, okay?" West gave me an inquisitive look, and once he thought about it, he nodded in agreement.

"Alright, Immi," she smiled. "Hey, you alright?"

I tried to swallow, but my throat was dry. "I'm fine. I just…"

"More wine?" Dan smiled at me, offering the bottle, and I managed a laugh.

"Oh, no, thank you, I think I've had quite enough."

He smiled at me again, laughter in his eyes. Dan turned back to my roommate. "West, you say you've never known any woman to want to be with you. How do you know this?" Dan knew damn well what West meant, so I wasn't so sure what he was getting at.

"Well, I- my work is incomplete. I just don't have the time. And I can't. I won't. Not until death is conquered. I've stated all this before-"

"Yes, yes, you have. So you feel as if you just don't have the time? Or do you think that they would be opposed to what you do?"

"Both."

"Ah. And what if you met some woman, West, some remarkable woman who had the same ideals and the same hopes that you did? Someone who understood you. Someone you could trust, I mean _really _trust. What would you do then?"

West mulled things over for a moment, never one to back away from a challenging question. "You're asking me if I could ever love a woman in return, if she felt that way for me."

Dan nodded. "Essentially."

My roommate continued to think things through, and his eyes finally came around the room to rest on me. They stayed there for a moment or two, and finally, he spoke. "If I were to love a woman…. well, yes, it wouldn't be just anybody. Due to the fact I have no time nor little interest outside of my work, she would be required to have the same ideals and hopes and fears as myself."

"And children?" I quickly interjected. "I mean, suppose she wanted them."

"Children." West said the word as if taking it for a test-run, seeing how it felt coming from his lips. "Well." He glanced to Meg and Dan, and I did, too, to find they were both smiling.

"Oh, he has his opinions on family, alright," Dan told me, and I could hear respect in his voice. Meg was nodding solemnly, but she was smiling, too. "We had that conversation just last week."

"My opinions on family and children are separate, Dan," West corrected him. "Children may be one thing, but family is something completely different."

"I don't understand." Dan asked for clarification.

He was silent again, thoughtful before speaking. "I never knew my mother, Dan, and my father was unbearably cruel. He used to scream at me. 'You killed your mother.'" I felt my heart wretch inside my chest. Meg's eyes went wide, and Dan looked ashen as West continued. "An aunt that I barely saw told me stories, when I actually did see her, that my mother-" he cleared his throat. "To put it in her words, 'was an angel.' I only ended up with a handful of her things to remember her by. A few books, some photographs, a ring. I was a very….. angry child. I wondered then why the powers that be would allow my mother, this supposed 'angel,' to be taken away from me so early, left me to fend for myself with this devil of a father. The things he used to do to me, it- ahem." Herbert cleared his throat. "He was a monster. I haven't the slightest idea how he never landed in prison, after all the bruises and broken bones I went to school with. I had friends in my youth, but none of them stayed for long. The only one I ever got close to was killed when a semi plowed into him on his way home from the coast one weekend when we were twelve. My fears were solidified then: anyone I'd ever felt a closeness to would be taken from me. So two things happened. Firstly, I swore to never become close to anyone until, secondly, death was conquered. I made the decision then to never let anyone else have to die. And so that's why I can't, Dan. I can't love. Not until…" He trailed off, his eyes meeting with mine as a tear slipped down my cheek. I couldn't speak. "I would worship her, Dan. If there was a woman I loved. Each of us has that part that the other needs. I would never be anything like my father."

None of us said anything, in fact, for a few moments as the severity of West's story sunk in. Dan shifted in his seat. "West….." he said quietly. "I had no idea. Really, I'm…. I'm very sorry." Meg nodded her agreement as he spoke. "But I think there's one thing you don't understand."

"Oh?"

"About love. It's immortal. Your mother, your friend… it was their _bodies_ that died. Too soon, yes, I will give you that. Way too soon. But their love….. the love they had for you, it never died, West. I hope one day you realize this."

I didn't have to be a psychic to know - the look on West's face told me - that never in his thirty years did anyone ever say something so profound to him. He nodded a thank you to Dan, and there was another bout of silence between us before Dan brightened. "So what is it you _do _understand, West? I mean, you're thirty now, you've been doing the medical school thing longer than any of us. At least, what I mean, is, you've been studying the field a lot longer than any of us."

West cracked a small smile and looked at me. _Dammit!_ I cursed myself. _Why are you blushing again? You're embarrassing yourself!_

"Well….." West started, the wheels in his head turning. His eyes were still locked with mine. "For example….. blushing." His smile filled out a little more as Meg's jaw dropped with a giggle and Dan started laughing. _Jesus, am I really _that _obvious?_

West got up from his chair in the corner and came to crouch down in front of me, face to face, the same way he'd been seated when I first discovered his secret. "I understand the semantics behind it - the _how_ - all the blood rushing to your face, et cetera, but I always wanted to know the _why._" He turned back to look at me. "So, Phillips….."

At that point, I'd already been gaping at him since he first looked at me. "Wh-"

"Why," he nodded in confirmation. He was very amused, and I was more embarrassed than anything, but I laughed.

"Do I _really_-"

"Yes, yes!" Dan and Meg were howling. "Tell him, Immi!"

"Okay, just for the record, all three of you are on my shit list right now," I laughed, perpetuating it amongst my friends. I looked back into my roommate's eyes, still fixated on mine.

"Ooh- see, it's happening again." Dan pointed out, grinning.

"Shut up, Dan, I'm thinking. Well, I'm embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?" West asked. "About what?"

"The spotlight's on me, West. Remember in class last week when I had to get up and speak? I nearly died!"

This actually got a chuckle out of him. "Yes, I remember that. But you weren't in the spotlight ten minutes ago." I cocked my head to the side, confused, and he explained himself. "You blushed. When I explained the relationship you and I share to Miss Halsey. And you could barely speak. What about then?"

My voice grew quiet and I became guarded as I stared him down. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do. And I think I understand it now, too." There was a look in his eyes I'd never seen before. As a matter of fact, coming from him, I couldn't even pinpoint what it was, much less name it.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Meg and Dan grinning at each other.

xxxxxxxxxx

MUSIC:

There is one song, one sad, bittersweet piece, that always seems to remind me of the heartbreaking nature of Herbert's life - the death of his mother and other loved ones, and the abuse at the hands of his father, who made him feel unloved, unwanted, and untouchable. It must have been a lonely life. The song is "My Skin" by Natalie Merchant, and here is a sample of some of the lyrics:

"Take a look at my body, look at my hands

there's so much here that I don't understand

your face says the promises whispered like prayers

I don't need them

'Cos I've been treated so wrong, I've been treated so long

As if I'm becoming untouchable

Well contempt loves the silence, it thrives in the dark

Those fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart

They say the promises, sweet and implored

but I don't need them….

I need a lullaby, kiss goodnight, angel sweet love of my life

Oh, how I need this…"


	8. The Intruder

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 8: The Intruder

They left shortly thereafter. It was getting late, and everyone was growing tired. I watched them go from the window and watched them laugh together as they talked. I couldn't hear much of what was said but I caught Meg's comment, "We shoulda been therapists, Dan!" It made me chuckle.

Dumping the used paper plates in the garbage, I began washing the wine glasses. The floorboards creaked next to me, and I looked up to find West standing there. We shared a smile and didn't say anything for a moment, in which West grabbed an apple from the pantry and began eating. He came back to stand next to me.

"My parents died when I was four." It tumbled out before I knew what was happening. He stopped and stared at me, wordlessly, and I went on. "It- it was horrible. They went out on their friend's boat and when it capsized, the mast crushed my father. My mother was caught in the bedroom and she went down with the boat. My father could have been saved but it took the paramedics too long to get to them. By the time they got to my mother-"

I choked on the wretched words, realizing tears were a lot closer than I would have liked, and West put a hand on my arm. My eyes met his. I marveled at how often he surprised me. He gave me a sympathetic smile, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet. "It looks as if you and I have more in common than we initially realized." West touched my cheek, making me blush again despite the inevitable tears, and he smiled comfortingly. "We're orphans."

He was leaning in towards me when the window down the hall shattered. I screamed, grabbing for West's arm. "Oh, my God, what-"

"Shh!"

We crept down the hall as quietly as we could, and I stayed close behind West, holding tightly to the arm he had out to keep me behind him. The window was shattered, glass strewn down the hallway. "Do you see anything?" I whispered.

"No." West stated, perplexed, and he relaxed slightly. "Huh."

Out of nowhere, in the blink of an eye, there was an arm around my neck. I screamed as the arm's owner yanked me back, dragging me away from Herbert, and I felt something sharp against my throat. I screamed again, in pain this time. West's face was one of horror. "Gregorson! My God, man, what happened to you?"

It wasn't the first thing I'd expect West to ask of him. "Let her go;" or perhaps "Where's the re-agent?" would have been my first guesses. I couldn't see his face, so I had no idea what was going on. But his voice wasn't right. It was a snarl; a raspy growl that made my skin crawl.

"Into the basement!" He barked. "Now! You first." He motioned to West.

I shrieked again when he jerked me around. Clutching at his arm, I tried to pry myself free, but he was horribly strong, and I couldn't break away. Doing as he was told, West led us down into the basement. I was awkward on my feet with Kevin holding onto me; the more we jostled, the more the little knife on my throat would irritate me. Fresh tears sprung to my eyes. West whirled around.

"Where is it?" he demanded.

"Can't you tell?" Kevin began to laugh, but it quickly became a cough. "I'm here for more."

"Oh, Jesus!" My eyes widened in fearful realization, and, as stoic as West was keeping, I could tell he was freaked out, as well. I struggled against him. "Let me go! West, help me!"

"Shut up!" He shook me.

"Let her go," West demanded quietly.

"No! Not until you give me more!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," West shook his head, slowly making his way around the basement.

"I'll kill her if you don't!" He jerked me around again and dug the knife into my throat. I screamed, feeling blood trickle down my neck.

"Herbert, _please_!" I begged, weeping.

"I said, _shut up!_ Give it to me! Give me the drugs, or I'll kill her!"

West made his way around the room and to the metal tool shed. He leaned against the corner and shook his head, putting his hands behind his back. "No."

Kevin was baffled. He stuttered over his words as the hand that contained the knife faltered. "What do you mean, 'no?' Did you not hear what I said? I'm gonna kill her!" My head swam. Clearly, Herbert had a plan. But what?

"Oh, I heard you," West carefully made his way towards us, his hands still firmly behind his back. "I just don't think you're going to do it. I, for one, won't let you. And as far as clarification goes, when I say no-"

The 'no' was barely out of his mouth when he lunged the shovel he'd been hiding around, slamming it into Kevin's legs. I screamed as the knife scraped against me once more, opening the wound even further; but Kevin released me as we toppled, and I scampered away as fast as I could, across the basement and underneath the workbench. I clutched my hand to my neck and felt blood ooze down. As West and Kevin fought, I finally got a good look at the journalism student. It was a shocking comparison to the boy we'd met just days before, and I realized fully he'd been using the re-agent on himself. He looked sick, like something from a horror movie. Pale skin, red eyes, scratches and open sores all over. It was eating him alive, from the inside out. I got up, shying away from the fight to grab a towel from the other end of the table. Pressing it against my neck I backed away. I had no idea what to do. I didn't know how to stop this one. Kevin wasn't like the others - they were dead. It had never even crossed my mind, what might happen if you'd injected the living with the stuff. I'd never been so scared in my life.

I sat sobbing in the corner, desperately trying to figure out what to do, when I was knocked over. My back slammed into the concrete floor of the basement with a sickening smack. In one sudden rush, the wind escaped me, and I felt a blow to the face. Stars erupted across my vision, and as they cleared, the first thing I saw was Kevin, and he was right above me. In split seconds, West had him of off me, and this time, it was he who took off the guy's head.

"When I say 'no,'" West panted, "I mean it!"

I clutched at my neck; the air wasn't coming back. My sobs and cries were coming up as wretched gasps for air as soundless tears streamed from my face. My entire body screamed in pain. Reaching up for West, it was the first time I'd seen worry etch itself across his face. It was fleeting, but it was there. He ran to the cabinets on the other side of the room, ripping the doors open and pulling a small first aid kit from the top shelf. Grabbing his coat off the stool under the stairs, he came back to me and gently lifted me up, threw the coat around my shoulders and leaned me back against the sturdy table.

"Please!" I managed to choke.

"I know, I know, I've got it, hold on- keep holding that to your neck!"

He frantically tore through the tin box for the disinfectant, and I couldn't seem to catch my breath. I flailed again, desperate. Warning sirens were firing off inside my mind, like a submarine filling with water. I choked and managed a cry. "_Herbert! _I can't br-" I gagged and choked again, letting out another noiseless sob. Tears continued to stream down my face.

West dropped the supplies back into the box and took my face in his hands. "Imogen, Imogen. _Imogen!_" I calmed a little when he used my first name. "You need to try and steady your breathing. Listen to me! It will come back to you, but you need to focus, okay? Can you do that for me?" I managed a nod, and he smiled, moving my messy curls from my eyes. "Okay. You're going to be fine."

He got the disinfectant ready and, pressing it to my neck, he held it there. Within a few seconds the burn flared, causing me to cry out.

"I know it burns, but you're just going to have to power through it. C'mon, you can do it." Moving the towel away, he cleaned off the remaining blood from my wound, studying the cut. "Okay…. it looks like it's not that bad, actually. As a matter of fact, the bleeding has already stopped. I don't think you're even going to need stitches."

West was right about the breathing; my air was coming back to me, but my voice came out raspy. My lungs were on fire. "But-" I coughed. "All that blood…."

"It's going to be fine. I promise. And didn't I tell you your breathing would come back?" I nodded, although I still felt like hell. My nerves were shredded raw, and I hurt everywhere. He readied a bandage and taped it across my neck. For someone so violently obsessed with death, he was surprisingly gentle. "Okay. Now we have to get rid of…. of this." He motioned to Kevin's lifeless body (and head) next to us. Standing up, he paced around the corpse, studying it.

"What are we gonna do?" I panted. My eyes were welling over again, this time in fear of what could happen to us if the police found the body of a missing person (or that of any person) stashed in our basement.

An idea struck him. "Get the re-agent ready, will you?"

I gaped at him. "What?"

"C'mon, Phillips, get it going!" He picked up the head and placed it on the work bench.

"Oh, my God, you're serious!" I managed to get back to my feet. "What the hell is wrong with you? Look at what's happened to us tonight! Our house gets broken into, I get attacked, you've gotten into a fight with a drug addict, you've _killed _the drug addict, and now you want to _work?!"_

"We have a fresh specimen _right here,_ Phillips!" He pointed to Kevin. "What, I assumed you _wanted_ this! Wanted the opportunity to learn! What ever happened to _that,_ huh? Well if you won't help me, than I guess I'll just do it by myself. I've _always_ had to do everything by myself!"

Now, _that_ stung. More than the scalpel across my neck, even. Bursting into tears, I flew up the stairs and into my dark bedroom, slamming the door behind me and collapsing into my bed in the far corner. I wrapped myself up the oversized fleece blanket, crying, and wondered incredulously how he could be so hard-headed in a time like this. He was wrong! I wanted it, I wanted it more than anybody else I knew, but there I was with a wounded neck and raw nerves, scared shitless, needing time to recover, and all he wanted to do was go straight back to work.

I curled up against the wall and cried for a long time then. I could hear him working downstairs; I could hear movement and I covered my ears, squinting my eyes shut. All I wanted to do was sleep….. sleep for days, if possible. And eventually, despite my tears, I started getting drowsy. The shakes that come with tears were still apparent, but I clutched at my blanket and tried to sleep.

I wasn't sure how long I'd lay there, but it started to grow quiet. Then there were footsteps in the hall. My bedroom door opened. What could West possibly have to say to me then?

Sniffling, my tearful voice wasn't as strong as I'd hoped it would have been. "I don't want to speak to you right now, if all you're going to do is kick me when I'm down." He didn't say anything back, but I heard him advancing towards me, so I rolled over. To my absolute horror, Kevin Gregorson's reanimated, headless body was reaching for me, halfway across my room.

"_HERBERT! HERBERT!"_

Kevin threw himself at me, a lot slower than he had been in life, and I kept screaming. I screamed like I'd never screamed before in my life. "Help me! Herbert!" I kicked and shouted and pushed…

Within moments, he was up the stairs and in my room. West tackled him and pulled him off of me, throwing him to the ground. Syringes were pulled from his pocket, at least four, and he ripped off the caps, plunging them deep into Kevin's back, around the area his heart would be. I was sobbing all over again, curled up on my bed in the corner. West injected at least two vials worth of re-agent into him, and in mere moments, Kevin was motionless. Looking up at me for a brief moment, West was shaking. He picked up Kevin's ankles and dragged him from the room, and I could hear him dragging him further down into the basement.

It was hard for me to move; the sobs wracked my body with everything they had, shredding my still-raw nerves all over again. I was crying so hard I didn't hear West come back in, so when he sat on the edge of my bed, oh so close to me, I jumped. His face was wrought with both guilt and curiosity, and for a moment or so, we didn't say anything, nor did either of us move. When he finally did speak, his voice was soft, so quiet, I could barely hear him.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you."

I stared at him for a moment, shaking still. My anger towards him evaporated, and my face crumpled all over again. "Herbert." I flew into his arms then. Lying down with me, he drew the blankets up around us and held me close as I cried myself to sleep.


	9. Arkham's Finest

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 9: Arkham's Finest

_It was after me….. I could hear it growling….. My feet were made of lead and I couldn't keep up. It was dark. The rain kept blinding me. It had no head, yet it made unearthly noises I couldn't fathom anything from this planet making. It was practically on top of me….._

The sound of crying; the realization it belonged to me. A warm hand on my back.

"Imogen, you're having a nightmare."

"Herbert?" Reaching out. Contact. An arm, a shoulder. A face.

"I'm right here. Go back to sleep."

Darkness, shifting towards him. My head on his chest, his arms around my back. Return to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxx

The first thing I remembered upon waking up the next morning was the fact that I was cozied up to somebody - the first time in years. Things came back to me piece by piece, and it all seemed so unreal. I slowly reached up and touched my neck. The bandage had held up through the night and now the protected wound was tender. I winced. West didn't move; I lifted my head off his chest and glanced up at him. He was still sleeping soundly, and I didn't want to wake him, nor was I ready to get up. Even in my t-shirt and shorts, I gave a shudder. I pulled the blankets around me as much as I could and curled back up against him. I let my eyes get heavy again as I drifted between wakefulness and half-sleep. In that state, time doesn't exist; five minutes feels like forty, and so when West moaned and stirred, I had no idea how long I'd been lying there.

"Mmm…. Imogen?"

"Mmmyeah." My voice was hoarse from fight and sleep.

"Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" I craned my neck a little again, and it hurt some. He was half-awake, just coming out of it, and I put my hand on his chest.

His dark eyes opened fully to come in contact with mine. "Are you alright?"

I shrugged as best I could. "Better."

"Good. Oh, how is your wound?" He leaned over me to inspect it, and I craned my neck for him.

"Oh, it feels alright. It's a little sore."

"Mmm. Yes, it's going to stay that way for some time. The bandage looks good. I'll change it for you later."

"Thanks," I gave him a smile as he propped himself up on his elbow, and he returned it. We slipped into silence for a moment before I spoke up again. "Herbert, you saved my life. Twice, as a matter of fact. How can I ever repay you for something like that?"

"You saved my life, I saved yours."

"Well, yeah, but-" I laughed when I saw the little smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "_Yeah,_ but, I only saved yours _once._ You saved mine _twice._ There's gotta be some sort of way we can square things out."

Herbert was silent, thoughtful, for a few moments, mulling things over. He finally lifted his eyes to mine. "Well….. there is one thing." He was taking in a breath to tell me when there was a knock on our front door.

"Huh. I wonder who that could be? You weren't expecting anyone, were you?" He climbed out of bed, glancing to me, and I shook my head and shrugged.

"If it's anyone I know, this is a surprise visit."

West went out to answer the door as I took my time getting out of bed. Changing into a fresh shirt, I could hear the goings-on from my room.

The door opened. "Ah. Hello, officers. Can I help you?"

"Are you Herbert West?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Morning, Mister West, I'm Officer Ackeley, and this is Officer Whateley."

"Good morning, gentlemen."

"You live here?"

"I do."

"Anyone else?"

"I have one roommate."

"He here now?"

"Um-" West cleared his throat. "She. Yes, she's-"

"Herbert?" I called. "Everything alright?" I made my way for the front door, pulling my sweater around me, to find West talking to two police officers, both men. One was in his fifties, the 'have-I-got-stories-for-you' type, and the other was much younger, maybe a few years out of the academy.

"You the roommate?" The younger cop inquired, nodding to me.

"Yeah, that's me. Imogen Phillips." I wrapped my arms around myself in the cool morning air. They asked for spelling clarification on my first name - most people need to - and I gave it to them. "There something we can help you with, officers?"

The officers took one look at me and glanced at each other. "Mind telling us what happened to your neck, miss?" The older officer threw a wary look at West as I instinctively put a guarded hand to my bandages.

"We were studying downstairs, in the basement," I told him flatly. "I tripped, fell into the chem table. One of the beakers broke."

"Uh-huh. Mister West, Miss Phillips, the reason we're stopping by is on account of the screams that were reported being heard from this domicile sometime last night, close to midnight. Neighbors say it was pretty loud. Sounded like someone dying, even."

"Ooh, yes," West laughed abashedly. He glanced over at me for backup. "Yes…. I understand. Quite embarrassing."

I laughed with him in faux-understanding and threw in an embarrassed-sounding, "Oh, dear" for emphasis, putting a hand over my face.

"We- we had the television on after we studied. There was a horror movie marathon on. As a matter of fact, I know exactly which film they must have heard." I nodded encouragingly. "You remember," he nudged me. "The one with the spiders with the-"

"Oh, don't remind me!" I shuddered, grinning.

"You had to yell at me to turn it down."

"Yeah, I told you," I laughed. "We're really sorry, officers. I guess we just underestimated the volume, the distance between our house and the next….."

"I see. Well, just for future reference, kids, make sure you keep that down."

"Of course, officer, we will. So sorry for the inconvenience."

"Also. Ahem." The older cop flipped through his pages of notes, pulling out a flyer. "Been reports around of a missing college kid. Y'all go to Miskatonic?"

"Yes, sir."

"What're you two studying?"

"Medicine. We're both going for our doctorate's."

"Ok. Good for you. Yeah, this kid was a journalism student, so maybe you didn't know him-"

My heart was thudding long before he said 'journalism.' The officer passed us the flyer, and, sure enough, Kevin Gregorson's face was the first thing we saw. I threw a glance to West.

"-but we'd be much obliged if y'all kept an eye and ear out for anything suspicious."

"A-absolutely, yeah. I mean, we've not heard anything. Herbert, do you know him?"

"Um- no, no, I don't," West shook his head. "Poor kid."

"Alright. Well. Mister West, Miss Phillips. We thank you for your time. Here- here's our card. You let us know later if there's anything you couldn't remember now."

"We sure will. Thank you." I shut the door as the officers left, watching them walk down the drive and get in their car. I leaned against the door to help stabilize myself. "Jesus," I breathed. "Talk about thinking on the fly. God, my heart is pounding! I mean, what if they'd asked to come in and search the place? They'd have gone in the basement!"

West held an austere demeanor. His mind, I could tell, was working furiously. "Thank God I got rid of him," he muttered, almost as an aside to himself.

"Wait- what? Oh, my God, when?!"

"You were asleep," he told me quietly, his eyes meeting mine. "I buried him underneath the basement. When I came back I changed clothes and found you were having nightmares about him."

"Ooh, yeah….." I reminisced, and suddenly, I was scared. "Herbert?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm afraid. What's gonna happen to us?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "But something tells me we don't have much time left….. not if I'm going to continue my work."

I got in the shower then, still feeling positively disgusting from the night before. The water stung my wound at first, but it wasn't so bad after awhile. West helped me put a fresh bandage on it when I was dressed. I was so lethargic that day, I didn't want to do much of anything. I was just….. so tired. And it wasn't just tired. I felt _drained. _Drained from work I had come to love and yet still feared. Would it ever end? I felt an irrevocable bond to the man that had opened up my mind and saved my life. Irrevocable….. I scoffed silently to myself. It was now. Whether I liked it or not. It felt right because I knew we needed each other.

He found me curled up on the couch later with a cup of coffee, watching the leaves fall from the trees that lined our street outside, and he didn't say anything at first.

"Your clothes should be fine," he told me quietly. "The blood on your shirt, although minimal, is yours, and they won't be able to deduce anything from it other than what you told the officers today. My shirt and pants have his blood on them, so they'll have to be burned with the body."

I nodded wordlessly.

"Imogen."

I turned to find him studying me intently, a small pile of clothes in his hands. "You… you once told me everything is going to be alright. I believe this to be true, and so I tell you the same now."

Comforted, I nodded again, this time with a small smile. "Thank you, Herbert."

He nodded his regards in return, hesitantly turning back to descend into the basement.


	10. Questions

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 10: Questions

Eventually, I became a bit stir-crazy; I was too lazy to get dressed to go out to do anything, yet I was tired of just schlepping around, so I went down into the basement and studied while West worked. I didn't want to be alone that day, and even if neither of us said much of anything to each other while downstairs, his presence was comforting. After awhile, I went to help him. But eventually I grew tired, and at about three, I stopped.

"Alright. I'm done. For now, at least." I made my way for the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to rest," I told him, smiling sleepily. "You may be able to power through on little sleep, but…." I shrugged. "I need a break."

"You do look tired," he nodded.

"Yeah, well, I feel it, that's for sure. Be good, you."

West gave a short chuckle. "I'll certainly try."

I fell back onto my bed and slept without even moving. Dark, dreamless sleep came to me before my head even hit the pillow, and when my eyes fluttered open again, the sun had begun to set.

"Imogen." West's hand was on my stomach; he gave me the tiniest of shakes.

"Mmm…." I rubbed my eyes. "What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock."

"What? Really?"

"Mm-hmm," he nodded. "C'mon, I've made dinner. And then we can continue to work. I need your help."

"Wait, wait - you _cooked?_" I smiled up at him.

"What, you've never seen me cook before?" He cracked a small smile, too.

"Not that I can recall," I shook my head. "What did you make?"

"Just pasta," he shrugged.

"That sounds good." I giggled then. "For a second I was afraid you were gonna say filet of cat."

"No cat here," West chuckled. "Well- at least upstairs."

"Oh, God, here we go again," I groaned, smiling, and it perpetuated his slight laughter.

"Yes. Well." West eventually spoke, giving a curt nod. "Dinner?"

"Dinner," I smiled.

I flicked on the radio in the living room once we emerged. "I hope you don't mind," I told West as I searched for something. "We deal with so much death, I want to liven the place up a bit for those of us who still have our pulses intact." I smiled when I found an old big band station; Frank Sinatra's voice filled the room. "_Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away… If you can use some exotic booze, there's a bar in far Bombay, come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away….."_

From the kitchen, West made a sound of agreement. "Good idea. And excellent musical choice, I must say."

"Oh? You like Sinatra?" Smiling, I came back into the kitchen to lean against the table.

West nodded. "I like all the old singers."

"Huh," I mulled it over with a smile.

"What?" He turned to me with a smile, placing two overflowing bowls of spaghetti on the table, then turned for the fridge. "You assume I just don't listen to music?"

"Well, _no,_" I laughed. "It's just….. your work….. It's all I've ever known when it comes to you."

"Ooh," West nodded in understanding. "Drink?"

"Uuh- yeah, please. Grab me one of the beers back there, will ya?"

He obliged, picking up two and coming to sit across from me, but not before popping the caps. I thanked him as he passed me mine.

"Okay. So. In that case, I have a challenge for you."

"Hmm," he thought for a moment. "Alright, what is it?"

"Well I know you want to get some work done tonight. I do, too. Really. I'll stay up all night with you. But I have one condition."

"I'm listening."

"The entirety of dinner must be used to discuss something other than death, work or school. And we can't just sit here and stare at each other gloomily over our plates. We're not dead, not yet."

His eyebrows raised. "Interesting. Alright, Phillips," West took a sip of his beer then held it out. "What's the phrase - 'You are on.'"

"Yesss…" I laughed, clinking our bottles together. "This should be fun."

"And you thought _I_ was scary….." Herbert shook his head apprehensively, and I howled in laughter.

Everything went perfectly. It didn't take long for West to loosen up a bit. Not that he completely left the stoic West behind. But he was definitely warming up to the idea of talking freely about something other than work. He'd just finished his second beer and was going for another.

"So how old were you when you first drove a car?"

"Thirteen," I giggled, taking a swig of my beer.

"Thirteen?" West laughed.

"I stole my aunt's car to go to the movies one night with my cousin, Shelley, and some of our girlfriends. I went to pick them up and we had a joy ride around town for awhile before getting caught by the cops. Aunt Jane wasn't too happy about that." I was overtaken by fits of laughter then. "Shelley - yeah, my cousin - anyway, she and I were grounded for a month. What about you, you ever go on a driving rampage as a youngster?"

"No, not really," West chuckled. "But I did sleep on the roof of our local hospital for a week."

"Really? How old were you?"

"Mmm…." He thought a moment. "Seven, I suppose."

"Seven?!"

He nodded. "My father, remember?"

"Ooh," I nodded, feeling guilty I caused him to remember. "Sorry."

West shrugged. "S'okay. I haven't seen or heard from him in a long time, so….. he doesn't bother me that much. Not anymore, at least."

There was an awkward moment between us before I continued. "What about school? I mean, clearly, you- Ooh!" I remembered our list of forbidden words and covered my face with my hand, laughing.

"Oooooh, you promised!" West grinned, pointing at me. "Rather, you made _me_ promise."

"I know, I know!" I howled, burying my face in both my hands as I could feel myself blush again. "Okay, okay-" I brushed it away. "Not that one."

"Another one, another one!"

"Um- um- okay, you read a lot. What was your favorite book when you were younger?"

"'Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea,' by Jules Verne."

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm," he smiled. "I wanted to _be_ Captain Nemo, exploring all the oceans of the world… I wanted my own submersible, my own crew; I wanted a telescope. I used to play at it after scho- well, we did promise not to say that word." His smile widened.

"Aaw, little Captain West!" I giggled, getting up for another drink.

Herbert thought quietly to himself for a moment. "Tell me about your bracelet."

I paused ever so briefly, propping the door to the fridge open. I glanced at my wrist against the door; the ten little silver charms dangled off, catching light and memory and bouncing them back to me from across the years. I smiled in spite of the pang in my heart. "Well, what do you want to know?"

"Who gave it to you? It's very nice."

"Thank you," I smiled, sitting back down with another brewski. "It, um….. my aunt gave it to me. After my mother died. It belonged to her."

"Oh?"

I nodded. "She began collecting them when she was even younger than I am now, and continued up until she died. I don't like wearing it all the time because sometimes I get scared I'll lose it."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Herbert smiled comfortingly.

"Thanks," I smiled back.

A light went off over his head as if he had just remembered something, and a hand went to his forehead. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry." Herbert made a face.

"About what?" I chuckled.

"What were the three things we weren't supposed to talk about tonight?"

"Oh!" Realization hit me, and I wrinkled my nose in laughter. "School, work and _death_," we recited together.

"Aw, Imogen, I…." Herbert's laughter died down. "I'm sorry. Truly, I am. It's not my intention to upset you."

I shook my head, taking another sip of my beer. "You've not upset me." At that, Herbert smiled - really smiled. "So. My turn?"

"Your turn."

"Hmm." I hunkered down into my seat, smiling. I studied my roommate's stoic face for a moment. "What was it that Dan was talking about last night - family versus children? Love? What conversation was he referencing?"

Now it was Herbert that was in the spotlight. He thought things over awhile before answering. "We were discussing just those things. I was telling them my opinions on them; I told you, didn't I?"

"You did, yes, but I feel like I was missing the rest of it."

"Ah, I see. Well." Herbert sighed. "I told Dan….." His voice trailed off, and I noticed he began shutting down a little bit. That stoic wall with which he protected himself was coming back up. "I told him that, if I were to love a woman, it would be the most complete and fulfilling thing, and that neither of us would be better than the other because we each have the thing that the other needs. We would be equal in our love and worship for one another because we need each other."

My jaw dropped and my eyes went wide; I had to set down my beer. "Good God damn, West."

His eyes were wide. "What?"

"I-I'm sorry, it's just that - that was… that was beautiful."

Herbert's face softened into another micro-smile. "Thank you."

"Okay, now you have to ask me something."

"Alright," West sipped his beer and looked me over, clearly trying to come up with something good. "Do _you_ want children?"

Despite it having been essentially just discussed, his question caught me off guard, and I nearly choked on my beer. I steadied myself, smiling. I guess I just wasn't expecting _him_ to ask _me._ "Me?"

"Yes, you," a faint and fleeting smile of amusement flashed across West's face.

"Well….. yes. To know that a new life can be created from seemingly nothing, from those two separate yet equal parts, it's-"

"Incredible."

"Beautiful." I blushed, my eyes falling to my lap as I let our words absorb for a moment before continuing. "I'd want children with someone I loved…. I'd want to watch our child grow, knowing that we were responsible for their creation."

West gave a nod of satisfaction. We got lost in silence again until he finally broke it with a smile and a swig of his beer. "Your turn."

xxxxxxxxxx

MUSIC:

Of course, I listened to the songs mentioned herein soooo many times while writing these scenes! :D I have a whole playlist on my computer of songs from the swing/big band era that I pulled from. I love this genre of music!


	11. Stay With Me

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 11: Stay With Me

The night wore on and before long we agreed on one last question, from him to me. "Okay, you better make this one good, West, 'cos we got work to do after this," I giggled.

"Umm…." West leaned back and thought for a moment. "What was your favorite thing to do when you were a child? I mean, was there one activity you did on a constant basis that you really liked?"

"Aah," I smiled. "Good one." I sighed, sipping my beer and leaning against the fridge to think for a moment. "Dancing."

"Dancing?"

"Yes."

"As in…."

"Well, as it so happens," I motioned for the radio. "Big band swing."

"Really?" West was impressed. "Was it difficult?"

"No, no, actually, once you got the hang of it, it wasn't that bad. Oh, perfect!" I got excited when 'Jump, Jive and Wail' came on. "C'mere, c'mere." I motioned for him to join me.

"Wha-" his jaw dropped. He composed himself almost instantaneously and frowned. "No. Absolutely not. I can't-"

"Oh, whaddaya mean, you can't?" I grinned. "You ever try?"

"Well…. no, but…."

"But what, Herbert? But you're brilliant? C'mon, please?" I begged, making the most pitiful face I could, and to my delight, he got up with a sigh and a smile.

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

"You're gonna be great. C'mere. Okay. Put your right hand….. here…" I placed it on my left hip, sliding my left arm around his shoulder. I grabbed his free hand. "Okay. You gotta feel the rhythm. You feel that?" I helped him along, tapping it out on his shoulder and starting to move a little with it. He went with it, and nodded, "Yeah."

"Okay. You ready?"

"No."

"Good. Now just follow me. Here we go."

It was a little awkward at first, but it didn't take long for him to pick it up. He looked down at our feet and smiled.

"Hey, look at that, Herbert, you've got it!" I laughed.

He kept smiling, too, and pretty soon felt bold enough to spin me around. We kept dancing, too, but eventually the song came to an end, and he slowed a little as a new one came on.

"Ooo, 'In the Mood!' Oh, no, you're not done yet, West. C'mon! Doctor's orders!"

He didn't fight it. He shrugged, laughed and just kept going.

We were tired soon, and fortunately for us, the radio had mercy on us, playing something slower: 'A Kiss to Build a Dream On.' I leaned in against him, resting my head on his shoulder while trying to steady my breathing. I lifted my head moments later.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been doin' this all your life," I smiled.

"You did say it wasn't too difficult," West returned the smile, making me giggle.

He held me to him, and I could feel his lips brush against my forehead. But it wasn't long before the music picked up a little and he swung me out and made me spin, bringing me back into him. West was grinning, and I was blushing again. He studied my face, inches from his as my heart began to pound.

"You're doing it again," he murmured.

"Doing what?" His voice wasn't the only just above a whisper.

Leaving my hand on his chest, he reached up and gently traced a finger down my cheek, and the blood came rushing back all over again. I grinned in realization, burying my face in my hand, but he moved it away and our eyes met. Leaning in, he kissed me, making both of us tremble slightly. It was intense, and almost a little frightening, but intoxicating, and I had to pull away a moment or so later, fearful of being sucked in, when I knew I'd made a promise to him. I buried my face in his neck, smiling.

The song was over soon, and I upheld said promise. I helped him clean up and we took the remainder of our beers downstairs to work. We were down there for hours, and I was positively toxic by the time we called it a night. I had just enough energy in me to wash my face and brush my teeth before actually going to bed, and when I came back out, West was heading into his room.

"Herbert," I smiled. "You're actually using your room."

He smiled back tiredly. "I am. You were right, it- it is much more comfortable."

I nodded, giggling. "Thank you for dinner, and thank you…. for everything."

West thought it over. "I had a most pleasurable evening. And you're welcome."

"Oh, I'm glad," I smiled. "Well. Goodnight, Herbert."

"Goodnight, Imogen."

It took me some time to fall asleep; I couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. When sleep finally found me, it stayed for some time. But my eyes eventually fluttered open, and I couldn't place what it was that caused me to wake so randomly. My alarm read ten after three, and the full moon shone brilliantly down through my window. I swung my feet over the side of my bed, coughing, and I winced, realizing my throat was dry. So I got up and shuffled for the kitchen, looking to get some water.

The dim little personal lamp in the living room was aglow, and I realized I'd forgotten to turn it off before going to bed. So I got my water, chugged half of it and went over, shutting it off. I turned around to head back to bed when the silhouette in the corner caused me to cry out and jump. "Who's there?" I demanded frantically, shaking.

"Imogen, it's me," West's soft voice reached my ears, and he stood up, coming to me. His face came into view via the moonlight outside; he looked tired, but concerned.

"Oh, God," I sighed, putting a hand to my heart. I set down my water, not wanting to spill it. "You nearly killed me, Herbert, what- Are you alright?"

He nodded. "I couldn't sleep," he told me quietly. Our eyes locked and I suddenly felt my insides quivering. "You're cold," he put his arms around me, furrowing his brow.

"No, I'm not." It was my turn to shake my head. I could barely speak.

His voice was a whisper. "Then why are you trembling?"

I practically threw myself at him, kissing him with everything I had and wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulled me towards him hungrily. Moments later, I took his hand and led him away to my room. Once there, he lifted off my shirt and tossed it aside, and he lay me back on the bed. The adrenaline was kicking in; breathing hard, I pulled him towards me, begging silently with another kiss. He leaned into me, planting soft little kisses down my throat, my chest, my stomach. His hands were everywhere. Eventually, after he removed his shirt, I couldn't take any more. My nerves made me a live wire, and my entire body was on fire as a desperate little moan escaped me.

"Herbert, _please_….." I finally whimpered, tugging at him, bringing him back up to have his warm lips meet mine. He took pity on me then, giving us both what we so desperately craved.

xxxxxxxxxx

Consciousness settled slowly upon me the next morning, piece by piece, and in the hazy light of the rising sun my tired eyes struggled to clear. Even with the dim light, it made my still-weary eyes ache, and I squeezed them shut for a moment. I was on my side, legs pulled up towards me; I shifted sightly, and Herbert did, too, the strong arm around my waist pulling me in towards him even closer. There was a warm breath in my ear, making me giggle, and I was surprised at how it didn't bother me anymore. I turned over to face him, only to find he was still asleep, but it wasn't moments before his eyes fluttered open languidly. When they registered what was in front of him, they snapped open, and he gave a little gasp. With that, his arms were gone, and he was scooting away over my double bed.

"Herbert?" My heart sank as I reached for him. "What's wrong?"

His eyes lowered guiltily, nearly panic-stricken. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Shouldn't have done what?" My heart bruised, and I didn't know why I had to even ask. I knew what he was going to say, and it hurt. His eyes fluttered back up to meet mine.

"I'm sorry. I can't- I can't." He sat up, searching for his clothes, but I grabbed his arm and he turned to look at me.

"Why not?"

For a moment, the longest moment I could recall experiencing, it seemed, we looked at each other without speaking as Herbert gathered his thoughts. "I…" He swallowed hard. "It's just, I'm….."

"What?"

"I'm scared." His voice was barely audible. I knew his arrogance would prevent him from ever admitting anything like this, but it was because of this, not in spite of it, that I believed him.

"Herbert… you don't need to be. Nothing bad is going to happen. Why are you scared?"

When he spoke again, he spoke slowly, softly. "You know what happened to me. My mother. My father. My friend. Every time-" He made a little sound then, hanging his head. "And anyway, my work. I can't."

"And _you_ know what happened to _me_." Tilting his chin up to look at me, I asked him if he was guilty of what we'd done.

"Guilty?"

"Yes. Did you or did you not have a good time last night?"

"Wh- that-that's beside the point."

"Answer me."

"Fine," he sighed, aggravated. "Yes."

"And do you care for me?" The sixty-four million dollar question. I braced for impact.

Herbert silently and adamantly shook his head and the wind was knocked out of me. "I refuse to answer that question," he answered solemnly.

"Why?" I asked him harshly. I was so sick of all the screwing around (figuratively, at least). "Do you or do you not care for me? The question is a lot simpler than you're making it, you know."

"Don't."

"Herbert-"

"Please. Please don't. I just-" He wasn't crying - I'd been convinced for some time that he just didn't have any tear ducts - but if it'd been anyone else, I was sure they'd have been in tears. So I stayed quiet. I understood. He slid back down into the pillow, shaken, and I lay down with him, facing him and taking his hands in mine.

"If you're afraid of something happening to me, well, you needn't be. Because nothing will."

He stared at me silently for some time, taking in what I'd had to say, until he finally spoke again. "There is one other thing," his eyes never left mine.

"One other….?"

"You asked me if there was anything else you could do to repay me for saving your life. There is something." I nodded, encouraging him to continue, and when he spoke again, his voice was nothing more than a whisper. "Stay with me."

"Always." A tear escaped me, sliding across my nose and into the pillow. I pulled him towards me and kissed him then, and we stayed entwined together for a long time that morning.

xxxxxxxxxx

MUSIC:

Of course, there's Louis Prima's swing tune, "Jump, Jive, an' Wail," which is so much fun, as well as Louis Armstrong's sweet song, "A Kiss to Build a Dream On."

But there's one song that has played a huge part in terms of inspiration; it is "Demons" by Imagine Dragons. The song is PERFECT. The lyrics, to me, come from Herbert's pov: "When you feel my heat, look into my eyes, it's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide. Don't get too close, it's dark inside. It's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide…. Don't wanna let you down but I am hell bound, know this is all for you, don't wanna hide the truth. No matter what we breed, we still are made of greed. This is my kingdom come, this is my kingdom come…. They say it's what you make, I say it's up to fate, it's woven in my soul, I need to let you go. Your eyes they shine so bright I wanna save that light I can't escape it now unless you show me how….." They both have demons they're fighting: their past.

And last but DEFINITELY not least, we have "The Promise," by When In Rome. You know this song. :D It is BEYOND PERFECT for this scene where he asks her to stay with him.


	12. Dismemberment

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 12: Dismemberment

When I finally got up for the day, I felt so listless. I didn't want to leave the house that day, but eventually, that listlessness turned to restlessness. The day wasn't slowing down, and our pantry wasn't getting any fuller, so I slipped into the car later that afternoon to head into the grocer's. Sliding the key into the ignition, I turned it, only to be met with a struggling, scraping engine; it sputtered and went kaput. I tried again. Nothing. "Son of a bitch," I swore, climbing out of the car. Looked as if I would be taking the bus. Again. That old car of mine was such a nuisance. Every so often, the engine would do this to me; Herbert kept telling me to just scrap it, but where would I get the money for a new one? Besides, I didn't feel like dealing with it at the moment. I trudged down the hill to the bus stop.

After finishing what I needed to get done, I headed west on Armitage and was walking past Independence Square when I finally arrived back at the bus stop. There, on the partially rotting cork-board that occupied the back wall, was a flyer.

_MISSING. Kevin Gregorson, aged nineteen, five-foot-nine, one-hundred sixty pounds. Shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes. Freshman at Miskatonic University. Missing since Thursday. Any info, please call the Arkham PD at 555-0666_

"Sad, isn't it?"

I nearly jumped clean out of my skin, not having seen the young cop come walking by. I recovered quickly. "Yes, I can't imagine."

"You knew him?"

"What?"

"You just look like a college kid," the cop shrugged. "He went to Miskatonic."

"Oh," I allowed for a small laugh. "I do go to the university, but I never knew him."

The cop nodded in understanding. "You have a good day, now, ma'am."

"You, too, thanks."

When he left, I was all too glad to climb onto the bus and head back home. We pulled away, hooking a left on Peabody and crossing the bridge to the south side of the river. After a right on Washington, there were two more blocks before I reached Parsonage, our street. The bus stopped at the corner and let me off. Our little house showed up just as the buildings and houses began to wane. I was relieved to be home, despite having felt cooped up. Herbert was coming out of the basement when I walked in. He eyed me curiously.

"Where've you been? The car…."

"Yeah, yeah, it's busted again."

He shook his head and clicked his tongue, grabbing his medical book from the kitchen table. "I keep telling you…."

"I know, I know, I remember. We need that old clunker, though, and you know it."

"Yes," he sighed. "It's true. One day we'll be able to get a new one." He looked me and the bags over again as I left them on the counter, exhausted. "You haul all of that on the bus?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "What else was there to do?"

"Huh."

"They were out of some of the stuff we needed but I managed to get most of it. I'll go back tomorrow, and I'll get the car looked at now. We can't go a day without that damn thing."

Herbert disappeared back into the basement with a nod. I didn't hear anything from him then as I followed him down. He was buried in the book then, taking a seat at the desk. I chuckled. "Seems as if Kevin is the talk of the town."

"Oh?"

"Flyers everywhere. I'm a little worried." Herbert was still engrossed. I leaned over the table, pulling down the book with a finger. He swatted me away with a frown, and I laughed, doing it again. "Herbert!"

"What?" He sighed, aggravated, and he finally looked up.

"I appreciate you getting rid of him but I feel uncomfortable. If they come back, they'll search, and by then it'll be a matter of about an hour before they find him."

Herbert sat and thought for a few long moments, after which, he finally let out a sigh."Yes… you're right. We need to get rid of him."

"What do you suggest?"

After a pause, "The school's crematorium."

West went out immediately for paper from the butcher's, the kind that's lined on the inside to prevent the meat from leaking everywhere. Dan was right about him: he certainly did have a way with people when he wanted something, and after having gone to this butcher many times for various autopsy-related things for class, it was no wonder the butcher sent him home with enough paper to last us a long while. While he was gone - he preferred the walk anyway - I managed to finagle the car into starting for me, and took the thing in to get it checked. New fan belt, of course. Cringing, I gave the mechanic the arm-and-leg payment he required and was on my way.

Herbert and I waited up until long after the sun had gone down, and when we were sure of the solitude, we went around the back of the house. I carried a giant tarp and Herbert took the shovel. I had no idea where he'd put him, so I let Herbert show the way. There was a little place out back, a space of a mere three feet between the house wall and the fence that shielded our house from the woods. Herbert found the spot with little effort and began to dig. I knew he was getting close when the smell hit me. I gagged.

"Imogen, don't crap out on me now," Herbert continued to dig as he spoke to me, and his wasn't the usual annoyance-heavy tone that he was so accustomed to carrying; he spoke to me almost chiding, but there was support there, as well. I covered my mouth as Kevin's gray corpse came into view.

"Get the tarp ready," he told me, and I spread it open as much as the little space would allow when there was a sound. I looked up at Herbert; he was holding Kevin's rotting arm in his hand with a look of disappointment on his face.

"Oh, my God, that's disgusting."

"Hmm. I guess I didn't dig deep enough." He placed the arm on the tarp, picked up the shovel and kept going. Finally, it was ready, and we pulled the body from the earth, dragging him onto the tarp and wrapping him up. "Let's hurry him into the basement."

Once safely away, I ran upstairs and locked the front door, shutting out most of the lights. I left on the little lamp out front again, and I even checked the windows. When I ran back downstairs, Herbert was searching through the cabinets.

"Whatcha lookin' for?"

"The ax. I know it's- aha." He found it under the stairs, and I must have had the most horrendous look on my face, for he stopped, staring. "What? You have a better idea?"

I shook my head, gulping. "Let's just get this over with, okay?"

Herbert went to stand over the body, assessing where to start. "Alright. So…. we're going to have to take him, piece by piece, to the school, starting first thing in the morning, and burn him in the furnace there."

"What about the torso? You couldn't possibly cut that down to book-bag size, Herbert."

"We'll just have to keep it in back of the car." He looked me over. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just anxious, is all. How are we going to carry the torso into school? People will notice."

"It will all be over soon," he assured me, turning back to the body. "And….. we'll figure out the torso. Let's just focus on this first. Grab onto his feet, will you?"

Together, we lifted him up and onto the autopsy table. It took awhile, but we drained the the blood from Kevin's body, thereby making it a lot less messy when the time would come for us to dismember him. I did the job myself because I knew I would be so much more squeamish trying to sever a leg. I made incisions in the femoral arteries and the jugular, and it wasn't long before we were ready to use the ax. Watching for any spills, we lifted his body back up and then over onto the tarp. Herbert picked up the ax, studying the body.

"Watch for blood - I know we drained it but there may still be some left over. Okay. Well. Here goes nothing." Holding tightly to the ax, he took the first swing, and it sank into Kevin's leg with a sickening thud. I turned away, squeezing my eyes shut. Two more hacks and he called for me. "Imogen. The leg."

I went and gingerly picked up the gory appendage, placing it next to the mangled arm on the second tarp. When I was safely away, he went again; we kept at it for nearly an hour, until each arm and leg were in two pieces each, and then there was nothing left to do. Herbert was panting from all the work, and we were both a mess. "Let's get this wrapped and cleaned up."

It took another hour on top off that, but we wrapped each piece up in the butcher's paper, storing them in the small fridge kept in the corner. Herbert scrubbed down the table and instruments as I scrubbed the floors and tarps; thank God we had a drain in the basement. When we were finally done, there was no trace of any gore, save for what was on ourselves and our clothes. I frowned, sighing. "More clothes to burn."

"Mmm, yes, unfortunate. We'll burn them with the body tomorrow."

Dragging ourselves upstairs, Herbert showered first, and I ate. I couldn't believe I was able to, after what we'd just done. When Herbert came out, he grabbed one of the paper bags from the grocery run I'd made that day, dropping his bloody clothes inside. "Put your clothes in here when you're done. I'm going to bed."

"Mmm. Night, Herbert."

"Goodnight."

I locked myself in the bathroom and scrubbed myself clean. It felt great to get all the filth off of me. When I left the bathroom I pulled on my pajamas and stuffed my bloody clothes into the paper bag. Wrapping it up, I left it on the kitchen table. Shutting off the lights, I went to bed and lay there for awhile. Something in me felt different. I couldn't put my finger on it; I felt…. nauseous, fearful, strong, powerful; I felt so many strange things I couldn't even begin to express. And suddenly, I felt like crying. Crawling out of bed, I crept down the hall. Glancing down at the bottom of Herbert's door, I saw it was dark, but I quietly clicked the door open anyway. I tried but couldn't hold back a sniffle. "Herbert?" I cursed myself; I felt like such a child. In the darkness, I could see his silhouette jump a little and turn in bed slightly.

"Imogen?" His voice was groggy, and when I didn't answer him, I could almost hear that slight smile. "C'mon," he mumbled, opening up his arms for me, and I joined him, curling up against him as he drew the blankets up around me. It wasn't long before we both were fast asleep.

xxxxxxxxxx

MUSIC:

"God's Gonna Cut You Down" by Johnny Cash. Imogen still has a tendency to hold on to ideas of, "Oh, God, what am I doing? Am I right in this?" The internal struggle of hers quiets as the pages go on, but sometimes, it's still there…


	13. Disposal

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 13: Disposal

The intrusively obnoxious sound of Herbert's alarm jarred us awake the next morning, and it took him a few tries to find the sleep button. Herbert groaned.

"Huh," I scoffed. "You're telling me."

"You ready?"

"Dude, I just woke up," I slurred, still hungover from sleep as I attempted to sit up. "Gimmie a minute." Herbert chuckled, but it was soon interrupted by a yawn. I crawled out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen to turn on the coffee.

"Coffee's on, Herbert," I called back as I turned for the bathroom, and I was answered by unintelligible grumbling.

When we took our coffee into the basement a half-hour later, ready for our day, we allowed ourselves to enjoy the drinks for a few moments before we pulled out perfectly wrapped body parts from the small fridge kept in the corner. Herbert held open the bags as I loaded them. It took two bags for the separate parts; we wrapped the head and torso in the leftover paper, then hid put them back into the fridge to take later. Our classes weren't for awhile, but we still needed to hurry, all the while avoiding as much attention as possible.

My heart pounded as we left the house. I was paranoid; I felt as if every pair of eyes were on us. The little girl out riding her bike, the postman delivering the mail, our neighbor pulling into the driveway across the street. But we had prepared. We'd wrapped each piece individually, and multiple times, enough to negate as much of the smell as possible; we'd packed as much as we could without overloading the bags and making it look too obvious. And we'd left early enough as to where we'd have enough time to make one more trip back.

I drove through the streets of Arkham, still worried, but I felt something then, a feeling I remembered from way back, when Herbert and I were only first formally getting to know each other. I recalled the thrill of being scrutinized so closely, and recalled how he even maintained it all through our friendship. I remembered the thrill of learning everything he had to teach me, knowing very few held this dark knowledge, and suddenly, I felt powerful. Powerful like that night in the cemetery. I smiled to myself, pulling into the medical wing's parking lot, located down College Street.

"What's that smile for?"

"Huh? Oh. Nothing."

"I don't believe you."

We were climbing out of the car, pulling our bags up over our shoulders as we began to walk, and I had to think about how I was going to word things vocally before I finally spoke. "I'm walking through campus - through the major commons, where everyone goes to smoke and have coffee and play music and take a break - with body parts stuffed in my school bag. Forget the legal ramifications - if anyone knew about this, they'd shit bricks. But they don't. They're just gonna keep on with their day, and none will be the wiser. It's kind of a power trip."

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Herbert grinned at me.

I burst out laughing. "You say that as if this isn't your first time carrying body parts through campus."

Herbert made a face of presumed innocence and I laughed again, harder this time, shaking my head. We rounded the corner then, the university commons opening up before us.

"Well." I sighed. "Here goes nothing."

We'd been lab partners for a long while - two years, at least - but it occurred to me at about that time that we'd barely been seen out together outside of class. Usually we would part ways as class ended to just catch up at home, but never had we really been seen together outside of labs and lectures. Some of the people we passed were people we knew from our medical classes, but most we didn't know. Either way, whether a medical student or not, most people at least knew the name Herbert West through reputation: the brilliant, arrogant recluse that lived on the southern outskirts and studied obsessively, rarely coming out to do anything outside class, much less with others. He gave most everybody the creeps. Heads snapped up as friends whispered to each other; a good number of people gawked as Herbert and I stayed close. I clutched at my bag's shoulder strap despite my power-trip, and I didn't have to have perfect hearing or an ability to read minds to deduce what people were whispering about.

"Hey, Dr. West. Dr. Phillips. How you two doin' today?"

"Hey, Mace," I smiled, handing the guard my student ID. Herbert followed suit. "We're alright. Just gonna finish up some lab work for class. How've you been?"

"Oh, fine, just fine." He swiped both cards and handed us our ID's back. "Y'all take care, now."

"We will, thanks."

Letting ourselves in, we went for the furnace in back as quickly as possible. There was no-one in the morgue that day - at least not the crematorium, which, fortunately, had its own little room off to the side - and so we closed and locked the door behind us.

"Alright, let's make this quick." Herbert started pulling out pieces, and I followed suit, We tossed them in in seconds flat, locking the doors and starting up the furnace. When we stepped out seconds later, it was mere moments before a few students filtered in.

"What should we do?" My voice was so quiet, I wasn't sure he'd heard me, despite us being inches apart. He threw me a confused look, keeping his voice low.

"What do you mean?"

"Mace might be suspicious as to why we're leaving ten minutes after getting in."

"Let him be." The look on Herbert's face said much more. _I can't be bothered with this!_ "Tell him we forgot our anatomy books at home or something, I don't know."

"Argh, alright. C'mon, I gotta go drop off my paper at Dr. Wendell's office anyway."

She wasn't in, so I left it in her box. Classes were starting soon for the day, so after retrieving our books from the car, we parted ways, agreeing to meet up at the commons at six.

"God, I'm so tired," I yawned when we finally saw each other again that evening. "Anything on the agenda for tonight?"

"I need to work," West sighed. "We can't have anything like that happening again." When I made a noise of agreement, he continued, throwing me a glance. "Will you help me?"

"Well, duh, I will," I smiled.

"Good," the faintest of smiled flashed across Herbert's face.

"Of course, I'm going to need some coffee first. Hey, whaddayasay to stopping by that coffee shop on the way home real quick? I sure could use some fuel, especially if I'm gonna be staying up so late."

"So long as you buy."

Coffee in hand, Herbert and I left the cafe and arrived home to start a night of study and work. The next day, the news was silent….. as was the next day's news, and the day after that. Days turned into weeks, weeks in which Herbert and I resumed our studies and our work as discretely as possible, checking up every day for news of Gregorson. But the cops, and therefore the journalists, had nothing. I was amazed. An odd assortment of grief, guilt, and remorse were never far behind, but these three feelings had slowly changed for me over time. Where I once fought the dark gift that had been bestowed upon me, I now welcomed it with open arms. It was a strange metamorphosis; Kafka, no doubt, would have been proud.

But, as I'd learned so long ago, when Herbert and I first started working together, sometimes you're so sure you have things figured out. That's when, without fail, something happens to challenge everything. And it was happening all over again… in more ways than I was prepared for. After all, we lived in Arkham, where anything could happen - and it usually did.

It was a routine Tuesday for us: a half day of classes that finished around two in the afternoon, after which Herbert and I would return home to eat and then retrieve any extra body parts we would need to dispose of. That day, we happened to have just the wrapped legs of a transient to dispose of, and then we would meet Meg for a short study group at four to just go over some paperwork for class the next day. The work had improved; Herbert, ever the chemist, continued to perfect his formula. Some days were better than others. Rather, some tests were better. The night before, the transient actually calmed down long enough to seemingly "listen" to us try and explain something to him. But it was mere seconds before he went berserk again. We were forced to destroy him straightaway.

Herbert and I stepped into the morgue with our bags full of books, notes, and body parts, ready to get rid of some of it. A group of students were chatting amongst themselves as they studied their cadaver; they had the radio on quietly as they worked. Most of them tensed up when they saw Herbert walk in, and only a couple hushed long enough to eye him before turning back to their work and their conversation. "Hmm. A challenge," Herbert stopped for a moment, dropping his voice. "What do you suggest?"

"Not sure," I allowed for the tiniest of smiles, eying the other students. When the lightbulb went off over my head, I let my voice fill out a little. "Well, I suppose we should dispose of our cadaver," I sighed, walking for the freezer. Herbert was stunned into place for a split second, gaping at me from across the morgue with his hands still buried in the pockets of his trench coat.

"Dr. West?" I called to him. "Care to lend a hand?"

"Ah. Yes, of course," he snapped out of it, coming to help me. Pulling off his book bag and coat, he tossed the coat over one of the desks and slung the bag back over his shoulder. We wheeled out one of the older corpses from the back, one that hadn't yet been claimed by a student for their autopsy work, and brought it over to the furnace room, obscuring the view of the students with the heavy door.

"Alright, Imogen - quickly, now…." Herbert grabbed up our bags and quickly began to unload the pieces onto the tray along with the full body from the freezer. I worked with him, and in seconds, everything was in. We wheeled the empty slab back out, shut up the crematorium, broke the slab down and put it away.

Stepping back into the morgue from the storage room, Herbert joined me at the sink, where we both started scrubbing our hands clean from the mess we'd gotten rid of. The handful of students working on their pieces couldn't help but stare a little at the two of us, and I could barely hear the whispers. I tried not to let it bother me. Herbert stood very close, and in a moment's time his soft voice reached my ears. "You know, you should work here at the morgue once you graduate."

"Huh," I paused for a moment, mulling his suggestion over. In all our work and endless studying, I'd practically forgotten that I was only a couple months away from graduation. "You think so?"

Herbert nodded. "You'd make one hell of a morgue tech."

I thought it over further, trying to envision myself on the job, but then realization seeped in. "Ooh, no, wait a minute, mister," I started to smile. "One of the things I may have to do as a morgue tech is operate the crematorium. I am so on to you." I laughed quietly.

My partner was trying his best not to smile. He was clearly amused. "Well, it's either that, or install one in our basement." Shutting off the water, he grabbed a towel and dried his hands, turning to face me as he leaned against the large metal sink with a smirk. "Which would you prefer, Dr. Phillips?"

My laughter grew as I gave him a playful little shove. "You're awful." Herbert chuckled next to me, but the silence in the room - save for the radio, of course - was what drew me away from him. I glanced over at the table to find all five students staring us down with wide eyes. I don't think they'd ever really seen the enigmatic Dr. Herbert West act in such a fashion.

Tossing the towel into the wastebasket, Herbert cleared his throat uncomfortably as he took me by the arm. "Come on. Time to go study." With that, he gently led me away.

Dragging my feet, I followed Herbert down the practically empty hall to the library, but I was so slow that he stopped and turned. "Imogen?"

"I don't like being stared at like that."

Herbert nodded. "I know. I don't, either. But you do realize it is me they're afraid of, don't you?"

I closed the space between us, coming to stand a mere foot before my partner. My eyes met his. "I wish they knew you like I do."

Herbert was never one for PDA's; even at home, it was an idea he didn't so much dislike, as it was an idea he wasn't quite used to. But it was then that he reached up to take my face in his hand, studying me intently. I placed my hand over his, leaning into his touch.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"For what, sweetheart?"

"For keeping your promise."

I smiled. "Always."

And in the middle of that empty hall, Herbert West tentatively leaned in and kissed me.


	14. Unexpected News

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 14: Unexpected News

It was close to seven when our study group disbanded for the day. I was becoming increasingly tired, more tired than what I was used to for that hour. We made our way back out into the halls that lead us to the commons, passing the morgue and nearly making it to the door when there was a voice behind us.

"Doctor West."

I could practically feel Herbert tense up next to me in disgust. He gave a short sigh. "Doctor Hill."

Dr. Carl Hill was a dedicated medical doctor with thirty years of medicine under his belt, along with ten years' experience in teaching at Miskatonic's coveted medical school. But his arrogance matched even Herbert's, and his dogged, unsettling obsession with finding fame and glory at any means was apparent, regardless of how hard he tried to hide it (and try, he did). As brilliant as he was, his knowledge couldn't match Herbert's - Herbert, who had practically been born with an inherent medical ability that consumed him from a very young age, whereas Dr. Hill had to work just a little harder and just a little longer. The resentment was staggeringly obvious, so it was natural that he and Herbert hated each other fiercely. He was at the end of the hall, journals under his arm and suitcase in hand.

Herbert cleared his throat. "What can I do for you?"

"Doing a bit of studying?" He came down the hall to us.

My partner's eyes narrowed impatiently. "Yes. Why?"

"In the morgue?"

Herbert straightened himself up a bit. "My partner and I had organs left over from a study we were conducting."

Dr. Hill glanced at me. "Doctor Phillips?"

"You heard it here first, Doctor Hill," I shrugged.

He looked us over skeptically, only a few feet away, and his eyes landed on me. "And just how long have you been…. conducting this study, exactly?"

"Long enough." I defiantly did not break his gaze. I was beginning to dislike the man, too. "Doctor Hill, if you'll excuse us, we really must be going. We have much to do to prepare for the upcoming week."

"Hmm." He was amused and unconvinced. "Yes. Well. Mustn't fall behind, no?"

"Indeed. Sir." I nodded my regards, taking my partner by the arm and guiding him away. I could feel the air around him beginning to bristle and I wanted to get him out of there before he really started to lose it. Another fight was the last thing we needed. We were silent until we reached the courtyard outside of the medical hall.

"Breathe, Herbert," I commanded. Next to me I could hear him doing just that, focusing. "Look, I know you don't like him-"

"That quack, who does he think he is? Doctor Gruber-" He was fuming.

"Herbert, Herbert. Look at me." I took him by the shoulders, and he did as I said. "Now. You know…. that _I _know…. how much this means. And not just to you. But right now, I need you to breathe, and calm down, and keep level, okay? If we're going to continue Gruber's work, I'm going to need you to _stay calm_. Do you understand?"

Herbert sighed, nodding. "I do."

"Good." I smiled at him. "Doctor Hill is just a jealous prick who can't handle someone else having better ideas than him. Don't forget, you-" Herbert burst out laughing, and I grinned in surprise. "You laughing at me, West?"

"No, no," he shook his head. "I am quite relieved someone else feels the same way, is all."

"Ah. Yes. Well." I laughed. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that man out, you know." When Herbert made an amused sound of agreement, I continued. "What I was going to say, was: You are the better man here, Herbert. Don't forget that, okay?"

"I shan't," Herbert shook his head.

"Okay," I smiled. "C'mere." My hands were still on his shoulders, so I pulled him into a hug, and he returned it willingly.

The next day, I could tell Herbert's mood was lifted a little. He smiled more - that same little smirk I became so fond of. It was a calm day, for the most part; once the sun went down, things became hairy. The two of us were walking through the halls of the school, making our way out to go home for the day when, without warning, it hit me.

"I was thinking of visiting my family this weekend. I feel like I haven't seen them in ages. If you want to - Ooh…" It was very sudden, the slight pang of nausea at the base of my stomach. Clutching Herbert's arm, I steadied myself.

"Imogen?" He grabbed me. "What's the matter?"

"I… I'm fine." I righted myself again. "Just…. the bodies….. in the morgue. They're making me sick."

I could take the quickest glance at him and know he was onto me. He knew I was bluffing. "Uh-huh." He nodded skeptically.

"C'mon, Herbert," I smiled. "I'm gonna be fine. See? I'm feeling better already. All I need is -" And that was it. Two steps and I was down.

"Imogen!" Herbert caught me. "My God…!"

"Immi?" Meg's voice reached my ears. "Herbert, what happened?"

"I don't know, she just- we were talking about visiting her family, and she just went down. She said the bodies in the morgue made her sick."

"C'mon, let's get her to the nurse." She turned to me. "Immi? Honey, can you hear me?"

"Hi, Meg. So glad you could join the party down here." I managed a laugh, and she joined me anxiously.

"Wouldn't miss it. Can you stand?"

"I think so. Help me, will you?"

"Sure, honey. C'mon. One, two, three." With that, and Herbert's help, Meg hoisted me up onto my feet. I slid an arm around Herbert's neck for support, and he clutched at my waist. With a little effort on everyone's part, we made it to the nurse's station, and Meg went home after much encouragement on my behalf, after making me promise to call her when I got home.

Herbert sat out in the hall while I talked to the nurse. She gave me something for the nausea, which helped almost instantaneously, after which she proceeded to interview me about what it was I'd been feeling the past day or so. The first questions were about the fresh scar on my neck. I stuck with my broken beaker story, and she moved on pretty quickly after that.

"And finally, Miss Phillips, well….. when was your last period?"

"My last- oh. Well, um….." I started to think, count back the days. "That would have been…. uh….. was it the cemetery? No, it couldn't have been….."

"The what, dear?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing. Ahem."

"Ah." The nurse smiled kindly. "So when….?"

My heart began to pound. I glanced up at her. "Actually….. it's been awhile."

"Ooh, okay, honey. Well, define 'awhile.'"

I thought back as well as I could and when I finally managed to get the math down I came to the conclusion I had completely skipped. My heart stopped. I looked at the nurse. "I'm late."

"We have tests, you know, honey. Would you want to….."

"To… try one?" My head swam, and this time, it wasn't from the nausea. The nurse nodded; I took a deep breath and sighed. "Okay. If that helps solve the problem."

It took five minutes, which doesn't normally seem like a very long time, but when you take into consideration the fact that you're looking to discover some earth-shattering and life-changing news, five minutes turns into five centuries. I was ancient by the time my trembling hands picked up the strip, squeezing my eyes shut. "Okay. Pull yourself together, Phillips." I read the instructions. One for no, two for yes. Glancing down at the strip, my heart stopped entirely.

"No," I shook. "Oh, God, no."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Get in the car."

I bolted out of the nurse's station fully stocked with a handful of pamphlets, two bottles of medicine, a sheet of doctor's instructions, and one shocked roommate who had no idea what was happening.

"What's going on?"

Climbing into the driver's seat, I slammed the door shut next to me and tossed my now-stuffed book bag into the back seat. When I didn't answer him, Herbert demanded my attention again, sterner now. I threw him a glance.

"I'm pregnant."

The drive home was so silent, I'm sure you could have heard a pin drop all the way on the opposing coast. Herbert, in shock, barely moved. There were a few times I considered checking him for breathing, but opted against it. He was so shaken that, when we got home, he immediately made a beeline for the basement without so much as a glance to me. There was a bottle of reagent left out on the kitchen table, so I pocketed it to put away later; I didn't want to go down there with Herbert in the state we were in. So, in the meantime, I called Meg, as promised. But she wasn't home, so I left a message, telling her to call me as soon as she was able. I'd not even taken off my coat yet; my keys still hung from my finger. All of a sudden, as I stood there alone in our silent little kitchen, the house almost seemed to be choking me. I needed out. I couldn't breathe! It was then I heard his footsteps on the basement steps. He eyed me inquisitively, and we stood there for many moments, just eyeing each other like a couple of curious strangers. My heart was breaking. And without even knowing what I was doing, I started walking.

"Imogen?" Herbert was just as confused as I was. But that didn't stop me. I walked out to the yard. I walked to the car. I climbed in, turned the ignition. For once in its God-forsaken miserable life, the engine actually turned over with a flawless purr. He called for me again. "Where are you going? Imogen!" We barely had a second's glance before I tore out of the driveway and up the street. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I watched as Herbert ran after me a ways. He called out for me one last time before tiring out, giving up and going to his knees. My heart shattered completely. I had no idea where I was going, but all I knew was I needed to drive. Drive and drive and drive until the car finally died or ran out of gas or exploded - I didn't care. I'd be fifty before I stopped. It was with that vision of a defeated and exhausted Herbert ignited in my memory that I felt my face finally crumple and I began to sob.


	15. You Promised Me

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 15: You Promised Me

I made it to Innsmouth in little time; I found my instincts defaulted to the docks Shelley and I used to sit at when we were kids. The memories comforted me, memories of times much easier than what I knew then. I started the walk out to the end of the dock when I spotted a pay phone; I put in a call to Shelley, and within minutes, she was there, having found me seated at the end of the dock. My shoes were off, but I knew better than to put my feet into those waters. Call me superstitious, but it worried me. I hated having woken up Shelley in the middle of the night like that and taken her away from her family, but I just didn't know who else to call.

She gave me the once over as she pulled me into a hug. "God, and I thought you sounded awful on the phone. Steve's real worried, too. What's up, girl?"

"It's bad, Shel." I lost it, tears flowing freely as that rear-view image of a broken and defeated Herbert crumpling in the street flashed again across my eyes.

"Oh, honey. What's going on?"

"Aw, it's just…." I made a face. "It- it's everything. It's… it's Herbert, and it's our work, and…. and….. I'm pregnant."

She grabbed me into a hug. "Oh, my God, Immi- Imogen, you have to tell me. You have to tell me _everything_."

I pulled away from her, shaking my head. "I can't. I can't, it would destroy you. I mean, look at me, it's already eating me alive. Shelley, I can't be pregnant, I can't handle this. Our work…. our work!" I moaned to myself, burying my face in my hands.

"I know you want to tell someone. I know you have to get it off your chest. Please….. Sweetie, I'm here to help."

I didn't know where to start, what to say….. if I should say anything at all. But she was probably right: why else would I have called her? Gazing out across the sparkling black waters of Essex Bay, I let my mind wander, gathering up the pieces of my story…..

"You ever read Frankenstein, Shel?" My voice trembled, and I sniffled.

"In high school, yeah. It scared the hell outta me."

"Yeah, it scares me sometimes, too," I scoffed.

"What do you mean?"

I studied my cousin's face for a moment. I didn't want to do her like this, but….. "What if I told you it was all real?"

It was then her turn to stare silently, studying my face. Hers fleshed out into a grin and she started to laugh. "Well, for starters, I'd tell you you were bat-shit crazy, that's what." She leaned back onto the docks, her peals of laughter dancing over the water. But when I didn't laugh with her, her face fell slowly, and she looked me over for signs of jest. "I don't understand."

I took in a shaky breath and when I finally spoke, I spoke softly. "What I tell you here tonight, on this dock, does not leave. Do you understand?" My cousin nodded somberly and sat up, her full attention on me. "You do not tell your mother, your father, your husband; you do not write of it or speak of it, even to yourself, alone. It stays inside your head."

"I get it, yeah. Now. Tell me a story."

I started back at the beginning - way back before Herbert and I first moved in together. I started on the night I found Herbert in the basement with Dan's cat, Rufus, the night I passed out. In an hour's time, maybe more, she was up to speed. She sat there silently, staring at me, not having spoken and barely having moved the entire time. I found it incredibly difficult to read her then, which honestly didn't surprise me, after the atom bomb I had just unleashed upon her brain. Finally, I had to speak to get her to open up.

"Well, say something," my voice trembled again.

"I- What do you want me to say, Imogen? This is the craziest damn thing I've ever heard in my entire life."

My eyes grew wide. "You don't believe me?"

"Believe you?!" She began to panic. "I can't even tell up from down right now. Goddamnit, Imogen, these towns are already fucked up enough with all the stories everyone tells. Fish people eating people in their church; half-man, half-alien beings in the mountains; and you remember that guy last year, the one who went into the Arkham Asylum and murdered his best friend 'cos he said he was possessed by his wife. I mean, I- I just- Shit, Imogen, why would you try and pass off one of these things as being the real deal? They're urban legends, for God's sake!"

"So you _don't_ believe me!" My heart bruised and my eyes filled with tears again. "Shel, don't you get it? Sit down, for Christ's sake, you're causing a scene. Please. I can't even-" The tears started to flow again, and I choked on them. "I need some comfort here, please! Why would I lie to you?"

"I don't know!" She was crying, too. "I don't know why you'd make something like this up. It doesn't make any sense!"

"But I'm not. I swear! I can prove it to you!" I reached into my coat pocket, pulling out the glowing green vial of reagent. I wrapped my hands around it to keep it from attracting the attention of anyone who may have been far off on the docks that night, opening them just enough for her to see.

"Yeah, sure you-" She stopped short, her eyes growing wide at the sight of the vial. Michele brushed away tears as if to clear her vision, and she gawked at it again. "My God…." she whispered, reaching out for it. I apprehensively let her have it for a moment, watching her turn it over in her hands as it lit up her face. She handed it back to me quickly, giving a shudder, and I pocketed it again. Sniffling, my cousin rubbed at her face and leaned back against the dock, her somber demeanor returning. "What do you need?"

"Need….?"

"For your work, the baby, anything."

I was dumbfounded. Sixty seconds earlier, my cousin was flipping out in terror over my story of a modern-day Prometheus….. "So, what are you saying?"

She met my gaze. "I won't say anything. To anyone. I won't even tell Mom and Dad you're pregnant."

"Thank you," I said softly.

Shelley nodded. "I can tell you believe in this work of his, as macabre and horrifying as it is. And you know what? It doesn't matter what I think, although I'll tell you anyway. If you believe it, and you care for him, and if you maintain the methods he's taught you on taking only bodies that will not be noticed, then I am in no position to condemn what the two of you are doing. I only ask that you call me once a week to update me on your progress, let me know if there's anything you need, or anything I can do, and promise to be as safe as you can."

I relaxed, comforted. "I will."

xxxxxxxxxx

My watch read two fifteen when I finally, guiltily, pulled into our driveway to find all the lights still on, and Meg's car parked out in the street. Dan was smoking on the porch. I never understood why, even as a pre-med, he still smoked, knowing the risks. But that night, despite everything, I would have smoked one, too. He hastily put it out when he saw me and jumped to his feet, calling for Meg and Herbert, but only Meg emerged. "Oh, Imogen!" I could hear her sigh as I climbed out of the car with my tail between my legs. I stuffed the keys into my coat pocket.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

"Innsmouth. With my cousin."

"This whole time?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"You know, he may be one stoic son-of-a-bitch," Dan pointed to the house, indicating Herbert. "But he is worried out of his mind in there. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Dan," Meg intervened, shooting him daggers.

"What?" He stepped back shaking his head.

"Imogen, why did you run off like that? What is going on?!"

"Would you kill me if I told you I don't want to talk about it?"

"I _already_ want to kill you!"

"Daniel!" Meg spat, pushing him away. "Lower your damn voice!"

"She scares the shit out of us and _doesn't want to talk about it?!_"

"Give. Her. Room!"

"Son of a _bitch!_" Dan stalked off, lighting up another cigarette and swearing severely under his breath. Making sure he was out of earshot, Meg turned back to me, crossing her arms over her chest and looking me over. "You're pregnant, aren't you?"

My eyes went wide. "Oh, Meg…." I begged.

"I can't believe it," she sighed, hanging her head. "Sweetie….. I love you, but Goddammit-"

"Please," I implored, going for her. "Don't te-"

"Tell Dan? Oh, don't worry, I won't. I'll leave that for you. Besides," she glanced at him. "He was out for blood tonight, and was fully ready to throttle someone ten minutes ago."

I relaxed a little bit, studying the still-fuming Dan as he paced my lawn. "You use the past tense…." I shook my head, and this made Meg laugh, which, in turn, made me laugh a little, too. I could feel the tension unraveling bit by bit. But I had a longer journey ahead; the reminder of having to face up to Herbert got my heart in knots again. I smiled at Meg apologetically. "Thank you."

"Yeah. Well," she nodded, kicking the gravel of our driveway. "We'll talk about it tomorrow. Again: I'm just glad you're okay. Alright?"

"Mm-hmm."

She hugged me and got Dan into the car, and then they were off. Turning back to the house, I made my way inside, pulling off my coat and tossing it down onto the sofa. Sighing, I knew what I had in front of me. So I slowly made my way down into the basement.

Herbert was at his desk, as always, and buried in work. The steps creaked as I made my way down; I stopped suddenly, and Herbert tensed up ever-so-slightly, but it was a split second before he was back to work. I knew him, though, and I knew when he was elsewhere. I couldn't believe it, but the man was actually distracted from his work. _I guess there's a first time for everything, _I thought to myself. It seemed that my college life was full of first-times.

"Herbert?" My heart and voice both trembled, but he ignored me. I said his name again, but again, nothing, so I continued. "I am so sorry. About everything. It wasn't my intention, you know, to…" I trailed off. When he still didn't respond I finished my way down the steps to the cement floor. I didn't dare approach him. I wasn't afraid of him; it had been a long time since I was ever even barely scared of him. I was getting frustrated. I wanted him to speak to me. I wanted him to be angry with me. I wanted him to yell, to throw something, to take me by the shoulders and give me the shaking of a lifetime. But he didn't. He just buried himself in papers.

"Please, I'm begging you. Will you talk to me?"

"Where were you?"

"I-I was around. You know."

His head shot up incredulously, but he never turned to face me. "For five hours?"

I sighed. "I went to Innsmouth to see Shelley. Look, I didn't know where else to go. I- I was scared. I _am_… scared. I'm terrified." Herbert mulled it over for a moment and then his head was buried in his books and notes again. My throat began to sting, as did my eyes, and soon, they welled over with tears. "Herbert, _please_-" My voice trembled and cracked as I began to beg yet once again, but he interrupted me.

"You promised me." He turned to face me, and as he raised his gaze to meet mine, I looked into his eyes for the first time all evening and saw they were red. When he spoke again, his voice was so soft it was practically inaudible. "Imogen… _you promised me_."

My resolve crumpled as his face did the same; he reached out for me and I ran to him, taking him up in my arms as he slid his around my waist. I clutched him to me and cried.

xxxxxxxxxx

MUSIC:

Kate Bush's "Under the Ivy" is so beautiful. It inspired the scene between Imogen and Shelley on the docs in Innsmouth. To me, it just mirrored Imogen's feelings of helplessness very well.

I can't believe how much Moby's "Mistake" inspired this particular section of the story. It's as if it's from both of their points of view: Herbert is so angry at Imogen for childishly and stupidly running off: "Don't speak to me this way, don't ever let me say, 'Don't leave me again, don't leave me again.' Oh you never felt this lost before, and the world is closing doors. I never wanted anything more. Don't hurt me this way, don't hurt me again….." It's as if he's somehow trying to tell her, "I lost so many close to me ('closing doors'), I've never wanted anything more than you." And also from Imogen's point of view: "Please don't let me make the same mistake again."


	16. Darling Pretty

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 16: Darling Pretty

In the three months that followed - the first three months of pregnancy - it was easy to hide the fact I was carrying a child. Winter had long since set in, so no one questioned my want of "padding" in my clothes. I worried what spring and especially summer would do to me - I was due two months after graduation - but, fortunately, once I tossed my cap, I knew I'd no longer care what anyone thought. It was incredibly awkward those first few months, mostly because neither Herbert nor myself really knew how to handle a pregnancy outside of chapter seven in our Human Biology and Anatomy text book. He was, however, remarkably patient and wonderfully helpful. I remember stopping and thinking on more than one occasion, "My God, do the surprises ever end with this man?"

I was so sick those first few months. In the very beginning, it wasn't so bad, but about half way through, I had trouble eating because everything smelled weird to me. The strangest thing of all, though, was the fact that I could be around the bodies in the morgue, as well as the bodies involved in Herbert's work, and I would be completely fine. This idea amused Herbert to no end.

When April came to a close, I was officially a week away from graduation and two months away from having my baby. It was tough in the end, having to deal with both the pregnancy and schoolwork together. Herbert's work took a slight backseat to my finals work, although I always made sure to work with him at least once or twice a week. And one weekend, I'd had enough. I had one final left - Anatomy and Physiology - and I'd spent ten hours that day on studying, with an hour in there somewhere to allow for eating and bathing, but my brain was fried. I threw down my book in exhaustion.

"Ugh, that is _it, _man. I am so over this."

Herbert looked up at me from his desk on the other side of the basement, his eyes wide. "How's that?"

"I can't study anymore. I need to quit. I want to do something fun. I've been studying all damn week…." I rubbed my eyes, yawning.

"Wanna go to the cemetery? We need fresh specimens."

I chuckled, grinning. The look on his face was priceless. It was the face of a kid who was desperate to get to the comic book store for that new Batman comic. "Sure. Let's go to the cemetery. But first….." I got up out of my seat, checking my watch. "I told my aunt I'd call her." Herbert made a sound of acceptance as I ascended the stairs into the first floor.

"Hello?" My aunt Jane picked up the phone once I'd dialed out.

"Hey, Jane, it's Imogen."

"Immi!" Her voice lit up with happiness. "How you been, darlin'?"

"Oh, I'm fine, just fine," I grinned, glad to hear her voice. "I've been studying all day and I'm just spent."

"Well, what are you doin' this weekend, huh? You got homework?"

"Well, I only have one final left, but I should do okay on that. Why, what you got in mind?"

"Shelly and Steve and Daisy are coming in to visit; why don't you join us? And bring Herbert!"

In the first few months since I'd become pregnant, Shelley, Meg, and Herbert remained the only people who knew of my child. I waited until Jane and Harry had met Herbert a few times, waited until they'd started to know him a little, before finally telling them I was pregnant. Even after meeting them a few times, he'd yet to visit us at our home in Innsmouth and see our family at work.

"Well, I-" I was grinning. "I'm sure he'd love that, Aunt Jane. Hang on- Herbert?"

There was shuffling in the basement. "Yes?"

"Jane wants to know if you want to come up to Innsmouth for the weekend. My family is having a cookout weekend." When I was answered with a long silence, I called out again. "Herbert?"

He appeared at the top of the steps with a curious look on his face and a beaker of reagent in his hand. He was a mess, in the middle of refining the formula. "You mean….. a familial gathering?"

I laughed. "Why, yes, Herbert. With food and fun and all those other things people do when they're…." I noted the beaker in his hand. "_Not_ studying."

He smiled, bemused. "Hmm. I think I could manage that."

"Yeah?"

"Can I bring this with me?" He whispered, holding up the beaker. When I grinned and nodded in response, he said, "Alright, then. Let's go to Innsmouth."

"Yessss…!" I grinned. "He said okay, Aunt Jane!"

"Wonderful, honey, I can't wait to see him."

"Also, um-" I cleared my throat. "Jane, listen. There's something I need to tell you."

"Oh?"

Herbert, having stayed in his place across from me, grew a bit somber; I could almost feel him tense up a bit from across the room, seeing the blow coming. He knew what I had to say.

"Yeah. Yeah, there's…. ahem. Well. It's just that, you'd find out anyway when we arrive this weekend, so I wanted to tell you now as to avoid an even bigger shock once we get there."

"Honey, what's going on? Did something happen?"

"It did, yeah, but- but don't worry! It's good, not bad."

"Well, well?!"

I sucked in a huge breath. "I'm pregnant."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. "Imogen Delora Phillips, for God's sake, how in the hell did you let _that_ happen?"

"Really, Jane?"

"Uh- don't screw with me, young lady. You _know_ what I mean. Who, might I ask, is the father?"

I glanced fleetingly at Herbert, long enough to catch what I felt was the single most sheepish look I think anyone could ever exhibit. "Um. I don't think I need to tell you that. I think you know who he is."

"Oh, for God's sake." My aunt sighed, calming a bit. "Aw, honey, I- I don't mean to yell. But you understand my side, don't you?"

"Well, of course I do, Aunt Jane. But please, I'm twenty-four years old, and I know it's not _that_ old, but not only am I graduating in less than a week, but I have a good, solid job secured; I mean, I have an awesome feeling about this. This could really, really work." She began to protest again but I cut her off. "Now, Aunt Jane, you know I wouldn't….. you know…. agree to this sort of thing if I didn't feel really good about it."

Jane sighed. "You're right. You're right. And Herbert, he- he seems like a very well-put-together gentleman. How does he feel about this?"

"Uuh… well…. he's taken it rather well. He's been very helpful and understanding."

"You have a due date yet?"

"Um. It's in two months."

"_What?!_"

"I've been pregnant for awhile, Aunt Jane. I didn't want to tell you just yet. So far, it's just been Shelley, Herbert, and a friend from school who know."

"Jesus, girl, you're gonna be the death of me, I swear." I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Aah, don't say that," I laughed. "Just think, another little grandchild for you. Someone for Daisy to play with."

By the time I got off the phone, my aunt was feeling quite well about the whole situation, and wanted to discuss it further with us once we got to Innsmouth. I was glad things turned out okay, because the last thing I needed was to have a family who shunned me.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Son of a bitch! Come on…. just…. this….. once…" I swore again, and again I twisted the keys in the ignition, desperately praying for the engine to turn over.

"I'm not even going to say it." My partner smirked.

"Damn straight, you're not, West. The answer is still no." I sighed, turning the keys again. Still nothing. "I'm really trying to keep the bloody messes down to as few locations as possible. That way - aha!" I laughed, the engine finally grinding to a start. I threw the car into reverse and backed us out of the driveway. "That way, we have as few things to clean out and-or destroy in the event of an emergency evacuation."

Herbert grinned at me. "Not bad, Phillips. Not bad at all."

"Hey, I do what I can. And besides," I grinned at him. "I did learn from the best, did I not?" That got a laugh out of my partner. A genuine one, to boot. My day was made.

The trip to Innsmouth was upon us at last. I told him that there were plenty of places to work, if he wanted; my family didn't have a basement like we did, but we could go out into the hills to work. In all honesty, the legends surrounding Arkham, Innsmouth, and Kingsport frightened me - I'd even heard of strange occurrences as far inland as Dunwich and her surrounding dark hills, but I brushed them aside. What was the worst that could happen?

I'd packed up a suitcase, as well as my backpack full of books and notes and other things we'd need; Herbert gathered up as much reagent as we could handle. Packing up the back of the car, we got onto the highway with no incident outside of the initial starting of the car. I immediately turned on the radio.

"_It's time to come away, my darling pretty, it's time to come away on the changing tide… It's time to come away, darling pretty, I need you, darling, by my side. Heal with a smile, darling pretty, heal me with a smile and a heart of gold… carry me awhile, darling pretty, heal my aching heart and soul…_" Mark Knopfler serenaded us over the airwaves as I put the windows down, letting my arm slide into the breeze, and Herbert put his arm around the back of the seat as I drove. It was a remarkably cool day for April; the wind that flew past our windows made my auburn curls dance up around me as we went along, and I laughed. Herbert, having been leaning his head back over the seat, watched them dance, smiling slightly in bemusement as he reached up to let my hair pass through his fingers. I was so happy to see him at such ease; he truly was coming out of his shell. Well, at least around me. I marveled at how much of an effect I'd had on him since we'd gotten to know each other. But then again, who knew? Maybe I was the first person to get close enough to him to see him - I mean, to really _see_ him. Beyond all the macabre death and egotistical arrogance and the obsessive dedication was just a lonely heart, longing for understanding and companionship. And, really, who doesn't want that, ultimately? After months upon months of getting to know him and learning of his terrible heartbreak regarding his own family, I began to feel protective of this man I'd come to know and care for. "_Take away my pain, my darling pretty, and the chains that once were yours and mine…._"

The drive wasn't too long, but we stopped to pee just outside town anyway. We were in no rush, and the day was beautiful. But when we finally did arrive at my family's old home, I was filled with relief. Jane was out tending her garden when we got there. She was grinning like mad when she saw us. "Imogen! My sweet girl. Come give your aunt a hug."

"Aw, Jane," I grinned, climbing out of the car. "The roses look lovely!"

Laughing, she pulled me into a hug. "Oh, those ol' things? I've only been workin' my ass off for seventeen months out of the year to get 'em where they should be. I tell you what, those are some of the most stubborn plants I've ever had to deal with!"

I laughed. "Well, they're beautiful."

"Thank you, darlin. But forget about that!" She waved it away, stepping back to look me over, eying my stomach. "Let me look at my girl….. Oh. Imogen." She grinned. "You're right, honey. This is gonna be amazing."

"Thank you, Jane," I grinned.

She looked up as Herbert emerged from the other side of the car. "Herbert, m'boy! Ha-ha! So good to see you." My eternally-happy aunt quickly snatched him up into a hug, much to his shock. "So glad you could make it!" The little half-smile, half-what-the-hell face he gave me over her shoulder was priceless.

We took up our things and followed Jane inside, where Herbert reunited with my Uncle Harry. Shelley arrived soon thereafter with her husband, Steve, and their little Daisy in tow, and they met Herbert for the first time. The house smelled incredible - curry and rice and coconut, a meal that had been so dear to me from childhood. "Oh, Jane, you made my favorite!"

"Well, of course, honey!" Jane gave another one of her infectious laughs, putting an arm around me as I watched the food cook. "The prodigal niece returns, it's grounds for a feast!" I hugged her. "So listen, we made up your old room for you; Shel's got her old room, so the two of you'll have to stay together. I hope that's okay."

I started to nod. "Uh- well, um- that- Yeah."

"That's quite generous of you, Mrs. Phillips, thank you." Smiling ever so slightly at me, Herbert picked up the slack.

"Please, honey! Call me Jane," she smiled at him.

We went upstairs then to unload our things and wash up before dinner. I left my bags in the corner after having put my clothes into the top dresser drawer and glanced at myself in the mirror. The thought that I was pregnant hadn't even crossed my mind since we'd left home. I shut up the last drawer when I noticed something different. I glanced down at my hands. "Tsk. Aw, damn."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just realized I forgot I wanted to wear my bracelet today."

"Your mother's?"

"Mm-hmm. It's no biggie," I shrugged. Down in front of me, little pictures adorned the dresser. My mother and father the day they married, the three of us at the beach, two-year-old me and six-year-old Shelley with our parents. I picked up the day at the beach as the room shifted behind me. Herbert's hand was on my waist; he peered over my shoulder at the photograph for a few silent moments.

"Your parents?"

"Mmm," I nodded. "Believe it or not, I actually remember that day. And it- it's not just 'cos this photograph hangs around. I remember…. my father swinging me around. I remember my mother's laugh. It sounded like music. And see?" I pointed to my mother's wrist in the photograph; there was the bracelet.

"Ah, yes." Herbert nodded. "I'm sorry about what happened."

"Immi! Herbert! Dinner's ready, come on down!"

I put the little picture back on the dresser and, leaning back into him, turned and kissed his cheek. Grinning, I grabbed his wrist and led him downstairs, back into the warmth of the kitchen, where all six of us were finally ready to sit down together and eat.

xxxxxxxxxx

MUSIC:

The lyrics to the song mentioned here in this chapter, "Darling Pretty" by Mark Knopfler, fit so well into this story! It's also a bit of foreshadowing, as well… ;-)


	17. Family Dinner

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 17: Family Dinner

"So that's him, huh? How come you never introduced us before?" Shelley collapsed on the sofa next to me, handing me one of the root beers she'd carried in from the kitchen. Herbert, fascinated, had gotten sucked into my uncle Harry's show-and-tell of his bug collection on the kitchen wall. It was hilarious. It was my family.

"Yep. Thanks." I took a swig of the soda and nodded. "The infamous Herbert West. I dunno," I answered her question, honestly not sure. "I regret it. You'd love him."

"Mmm," my cousin studied him mid-sip. She turned her head at him. "Yeah, you know, he's kinda cute in that nerdy scientist way. I can see why you like him."

I nearly coughed up my root beer, laughing. "Well, thanks very much, Dear Abby."

"I'm glad you're amused," Shel laughed, too. "But I'm serious. You two seem to compliment each other very nicely."

My cousin's smile and calm demeanor were hard to look past. I studied her face, trying my best to figure her out. "Shelley, did we or did we not have a conversation together on the docks the other night?"

"Oh, we most certainly did, my dear," she laughed again.

"Okay. A-and your exact feelings on this-"

"My exact feelings on this have not changed from that night." Her face grew serious as a loving smile appeared there. "So he-" she dropped her voice. "So he's a modern-day Dr. Frankenstein. Has he actually been the one responsible for the initial deaths of anyone he's ever brought back?"

I thought it over for a moment and the only person I could think of was Kevin. "Does self-defense count? Or defense of someone…. close to him?"

"No. A defensive is not the same thing to me."

"Then no. In that case, he's not killed the living."

"Alright, then." She smiled, sipping the root beer again. "Nothing to worry about."

"God, you're incredible," I scoffed.

"I'm sure God doesn't guilt-trip Himself every time someone dies. Shit happens, Immi. People die every day. Personally, if you guys end up curing cancer or prolonging human life with this stuff you're concocting, then more power to you." She rose her glass to Herbert, who was still immersed in conversation with my uncle. "Whatever happens, Imogen…. you're making us proud."

I smiled thankfully, squeezing her hand. "Yeah, well. _You're _proud. Would I still make your parents proud if they knew what Herbert and I are up to? I mean, _beyond_ making babies outta wedlock?"

"Mmm," she shrugged. "It's not for everybody. But you know them. You're their little girl just as much as I am. Just promise me that, when I die, you won't try and bring me back."

"Uugh," I shuddered. "No. That's not happening, don't worry. I wouldn't want it, either, to be honest."

"Do you ever wonder if _they_ wanted it?"

That little pang of guilt hit me again. "All the time," I told her softly. "But hey…. cure cancer, right?"

Shelley raised her glass again to me and made a face that told me, 'point taken.'

"Mommy, Aunt Immi." Daisy tugged at Shelley's jeans, grinning at me. "Cookies! C'mon!" The smell of baking cookies wafted in from the kitchen and I smiled, nudging my cousin. We grinned and made our way for the kitchen.

With handfuls of chocolate chip cookies, we all sat around the living room and laughed and chatted merrily for the longest time. Herbert ate quietly, still his stoic self around these still somewhat new people, though he'd been to visit a few times already. I'd watched him relax tiny piece by tiny piece throughout the evening. He not only had gotten to know Harry but had also gotten sucked into medical debate by Steve, who had graduated from Brown just two years before. I watched him open up before me as he smiled at something medical Steve had said, all the while watching little Daisy playing with her dolls at the coffee table; he was always studying, even when he had no books, notes, beakers or reagent in front of him.

As the night wore down, things began to get a little quieter, and soon, after flicking on the radio, and after Steve and Shelley went to put Daisy to bed, we were helping Harry and Jane scrub the kitchen and the dishes clean from the meal. Herbert and I were scrubbing dishes at the sink when he said quietly, holding back the faintest of smiles, "Well this is nicer than when we had to clean up Gregorson."

I burst out laughing, and he stared at me, amused.

"What's that?" Jane chuckled from across the room, shelving the now-clean cookie tray.

"Oh, um…" I wiped tears of laughter from my eyes with my wrist. "A couple months ago, we, uh….. had to clean up this body from this wreck, it-it was really bad," I shook my head in the knee-jerk, made-up memory. "He was just saying he prefers this mess to that one."

Jane laughed, making a face and a sound of faux nausea. "I bet; that sounds disgusting. I don't know how you kids do it."

"Your dau- um, niece has a very strong stomach, as a matter of fact," Herbert smiled, glancing up at my aunt and then back down at me. "And a good heart, as well. I am confident she will make a remarkable doctor."

That took me by surprise. I stared at Herbert for a moment, my heart skipping a beat or two. "Oh, Herbert," Jane smiled. "That's so kind of you. Thank you." I leaned my head against Herbert's shoulder in appreciation. He didn't do much to return the gesture, but the look on his face was enough.

After the cleanup, Harry retired for the evening as Jane curled up in the sitting room with a book. Shelley and Steve, chatting quietly, had the television on, and I eyed the program for a moment before losing interest and stepping outside into the cool spring evening. "Imogen?" Shelley's voice reached me before I could shut the door.

"Hmm?" I popped my head back inside to find an inquisitive look etched across my cousin's face. "Oh, I'm just gonna walk around out here a bit. It's such a nice night."

Shelley smiled and nodded. "Have fun."

"Okay."

The sun was long gone as I stepped out into the inky darkness, but the moon was full that night, and out there, there wasn't much light pollution to cloud the skies, so the stars were out in their full brilliance. I made it out into the fields that sprawled out in front of my childhood home, taking a seat in the grass and gazing up into those stars. It made me feel very alone, wondering if we were the only ones out there; no neighbors, no nothing. There was a sound behind me. Footsteps through the grass. Soon, silently, Herbert took a seat next to me. We shared a smile and for a long time, we just sat there, quietly enjoying each other's company.

"There are a lot of little critters out here, you know. Enough to keep us occupied if you want to work."

Herbert smiled at my offer. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise as a laugh began to overtake me. "My goodness, am I to believe the epic Dr. Herbert West will _not_ be in this evening?"

Again, another of Herbert's microscopic smiles played at the corner of his mouth as he eyed me briefly, before finally returning his gaze to the stars above him. "What, were you not the one who wanted me to relax and take a break?"

"Fair enough," I chuckled. "I s'pose I'm just not accustomed to you taking breaks." My arms became tired at supporting me, so I leaned back into the grass, resting my head on my arms. I glanced up at Herbert, quietly studying his face for a few beats as he, in turn, studied the stars. Finally, he leaned back to lie out next to me in the grass. He was quiet, silently watching the cosmos unfold before us. "You have a nice night?" I asked him.

He made a sound of confirmation, and turned his head to glance at me as a little smile came upon him. "I look forward to coming back."

xxxxxxxxxx

It was early when I began to wake; the light was crisp from the sun still making its ascent into the skies, and the cool spring air caused the curtains to dance into the room. My eyes were foggy as I tried to register all of it. The breeze from the open window was amazing; it filled the whole room with the smell of approaching summertime. I closed my eyes again and enjoyed it. There was a noise across the room then: a door opening quietly, soft footsteps across the old wooden floors. A creak, a cough. I cracked my eyes to find Herbert buttoning up his shirt at the open window; he was lost in thought and the world outside.

"Herbert," I smiled.

He turned at the sound of my voice and smiled, too. "You're awake."

"Mmm. Morning."

Herbert came over and sat next to me on the bed. "Good morning," he replied quietly.

"You been up long?"

"No," he shook his head.

"What time is it?" I yawned. "It's gotta be so early." It was then I began to hear the sounds of life downstairs. Herbert rested a hand on my arm.

"About nine."

"Ah. Well I wonder what my dear aunt has planned for the day?" I giggled. "Knowing her, she probably has something wild all thought up."

"Oh?" Herbert gave another one of his signature micro-smiles of amusement, the little one that tugged at the corner of his mouth and made his eyes shine.

"Yeah," the giggle stayed on as an inquisitive look joined the little smile on Herbert's face. He studied mine intently for a moment, as if debating upon what to do next, and for a split second I wondered what it was all about. I didn't have to wonder for long, because he scooted himself in a little closer, leaned down and kissed my lips. I wasn't sure what surprised me more, his initiation or the sweetness of it. Regardless, I wasn't one to question it. I held him close and kissed him back.


	18. Symbiants

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 18: Symbiants

Climbing out of bed, I shuffled down to the bathroom to freshen up for the day. I'd done my teeth, my face, and was just finishing up dragging a brush through my hair when I headed back into the guest bedroom I shared with Herbert, who was busy reading a medical book in the chair by the open window. His notes were in his lap.

"Wanna work tonight after the day's activities?" I grabbed a hair band off the dresser and messily put my curls up into a bun. Herbert glanced up at me from the book and smiled.

"Where are we going to find a body? Is there a cemetery nearby?"

I shrugged. "Dunno if we're gonna find a human one, but even if there were a cemetery - which, yes, there is - we have no guarantee if any are fresh. We'd have to go to a morgue or a funeral home or something, and who knows if they'd even let us have a body? Who knows if they'd even have an extra one to begin with?" I paused, and it was then Herbert's face fleshed out into a devilish grin. "Oh, no," I groaned at this. "What macabre plan are you concocting in that little head of yours, you fiend?"

He laughed, putting his work down on the chair as I spoke. Going over to his briefcase, he pulled out what looked like his school ID.

"Tsk; I hate to break it to you, Herbert, but I have one of those, too, you know-" Herbert handed it to me and I stopped. This was, indeed, a Miskatonic University school ID, but it didn't say STUDENT on it like mine did. It said FACULTY below the name and credentials, HERBERT WEST, PhD. I gaped up at him. "Where in the hell did you get this? I mean, how?"

"You know how I got that! Remember, this isn't my first time through university life."

"Right….." I glanced back down at the rectangle of plastic, a little larger than an ATM card. I turned it over in my hands, studying it, before finally handing it back to him. "But you're so young! When did you even start at Miskatonic? I mean, your first time around."

He, too, looked the badge over. "I was sixteen. Graduated from general university at twenty, medical school at twenty-four. Four years in Austria, and then two years ago I started up again at Miskatonic."

"Wow. Sixteen? Is that when you graduated from high school?"

Herbert nodded, pocketing the badge. "I was self-taught, mostly. I mean…. after finishing the required reading months in advance. I knew if I wanted to get anywhere I'd at least have to get out of there first. And I had to get away from _him._" Herbert drew in sudden breath then, as if hoping to retract the last statement. His eyes darted up to meet mine.

"Him?"

His eyes closed briefly. "My father."

"Ooh," I gave a somber sound of understanding, recalling his mention of his father the night Gregorson had broken into our house the second time and nearly killed me. A pang of guilt flashed at my heart. "If you don't want to talk about it…"

"No, no." He shook his head and gave a sigh. "It's fine. Really. It's all behind me now. I haven't seen or heard from my father in fourteen years, and that gives me comfort." He smiled at me reassuringly, but when I looked into his eyes, I could still see the bruises in his heart. I went towards him, resting a hand on his chest.

"Whatever he did to you, whatever happened… I'm so sorry." I put a hand to his face, inciting him to look at me. "And I know it'll never happen again."

His smile grew. Placing his hands on my hips, he drew me into a hug, eventually wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me tightly. I had my arms around his neck, and I kissed his cheek as he'd pulled me towards him. When he pulled himself away a few moments later, it was to hold my gaze, study my face. He kept his arms around me, and I kept mine around him. "Thank you," he whispered, putting his forehead to mine.

"Always." The smell of cinnamon rolls, bacon and eggs wafted up through the house, and it was then there was a knock at the door. "Yeah?"

Shelley burst in. "Hey!" She grinned. "Not only is there breakfast, but Mom and Dad have that fever again. C'mon!" And that's when the familiar tune began downstairs - a tune I grew up spinning around the room to - it was my favorite. 'Skokiaan,' by the wonderful Louis Armstrong. I looked at Herbert, my eyes growing wide. It was my turn to grin madly.

"Oh, no," Herbert moaned, grinning as he leaned his head back into mine. I giggled, holding onto him. "Not again."

"No, no, no, mister, come on. You got moves and we're gonna show 'em off. Let's go!" I grabbed his hand and together the three of us raced down the steps. "Alright, you, come on." I grinned at Herbert, motioning him to come for me, and he let loose with a grin of his own, taking me by the hand. There were howls of laughter from everyone then as we began to spin. Daisy was jumping up and down in delight and laughter. My family joined us as we twirled and flew around the kitchen, kicking up our feet and throwing away every ounce of sadness we'd seen in our lives. We let them float out that window, away with the wind and the trumpet, the laughter and the clarinet. That morning, we were new again.

What seemed like hours passed before we had to quit, when really, it was about a half-hour straight of dancing and laughter. My aunt, breathless, collapsed in front of a plate of breakfast. We grabbed our own and all joined her, winded and glowing and laughing.

"Herbert!" Jane laughed, her commanding voice filling the kitchen. "I'm amazed! My niece teach you that?"

"She did," Herbert grinned, helping himself to the eggs. "Frankly, I never knew my feet were even capable of doing such things!"

Harry howled. "Well, you're a natural, son!"

"Thank you," Herbert straightened himself up proudly, and I giggled, leaning into him.

"Didn't I say it was going to be wild?"

Herbert smiled fully at me; in a split second, he'd checked my family, noted their burial in their food and slipped me a quick kiss on the cheek before returning to his own breakfast.

xxxxxxxxxx

That day, we spent some time out with the family - there wasn't a whole hell of a lot to do in Innsmouth, but we made the best of it with a trip to the one little stretch of sand in all of town that looked out over the bay. Ever the obsessive recluse, Herbert snuck along a medical textbook, his journal and a stack of notes; I lost count of how many times I found him lost in the sand dunes, scribbling away furiously. I watched him read his book and write his notes, and every so often he would shift his gaze up to briefly watch me and my family: Harry and Daisy playing in the waves, Steve and Shelley looking for shells, and Jane snapping pictures. Every so often Herbert would stop, pocket his things and come to join us in whatever we were doing, but eventually, he'd end up in those dunes. I let him be, knowing him well enough to let him have his space, but eventually, hunger began to settle into most of us again, and we were ready for lunch.

Shelly smiled at me as she set out paper plates on the picnic table at the edge of the dunes, glancing over to Herbert, who was a few yards off, lost in his work. "He's watching you," she said softly, still smiling. Trying to be as nonchalant as I could, I pretended to be watching the waves, but my focus shifted to the dunes. Herbert was, indeed, watching me; I glanced over at him finally. He smiled at me and waved slightly, and I winked at him. For once, it was him who blushed as he returned to his work. "That boy loves you, you know," my cousin continued with a chuckle, having witnessed the brief exchange.

"What do you mean?" I stared at her.

"Well, what do you mean, what do I mean?" Shelley laughed. "I mean, look at him. The way he looks at you, the way he acts around you. Sure, he can be arrogant; I can see what you mean when you say he has that tendency. But Imogen, you are bringing him out of his shell. When you first met him, would he have danced then?"

I thought about it for a moment. "No," I shook my head. "He would have laughed at the thought."

Shelley smiled. "You love him, too, don't you?" And I didn't answer right away. The question was so simple, yet I couldn't speak, and when I didn't say anything, Shelley nodded. "I knew it," she grinned.

"Ladies," Steve called from the grill. "Burgers are almost ready."

"You better go coax the good doctor down off his dunes," Shelley smiled.

"I'll see what I can do," I laughed. "No promises, though." Climbing up and over the sandy grass, I approached Herbert, watching him lose himself further in the papers in front of him. I sat down cross-legged next to him; the light breeze that came up over the dunes made my curls tickle my nose, and I brushed them away. Herbert held down the pages of his book as I slid an arm through his, leaning my head against his shoulder. He threw me a quick glance before returning to the book.

"Anything new, doc?"

He shook his head. "Not really."

"Smile, kids!" Jane was just over the other dune, not six feet out, and we had just enough time to find her and do as she said before the flash went off. She grinned at us, waving as she trotted off to her next shot. I giggled, watching her go.

"Well, the grill's on," I sighed, lifting my head to rest my chin on his shoulder. "I'm sure you're hungry. Why not come eat? Hmm?" This time, he looked up to hold my gaze and look me over. He smiled at me a little, then gazed out over the bay. I studied his face silently, desperately wishing I knew what to say, how to help him. "Herbert?"

He glanced at me again, then over at my family. Daisy was playing out in the waves as Shelley and Steve were manning the grill, laughing playfully at some little lover's joke; Aunt Jane had put down her camera and was engaged in a lighthearted political debate with Uncle Harry as they prepared the fixin's. Herbert was processing everything with such fascination: the way Shelley would smile at Steve, the way Jane would laugh at something Harry had said. The way Harry hugged Shelley when he came over to help them at the grill. He watched them interact and it was then I understood what he'd been searching for so desperately in that book, those notes, this family. My heart broke for him. Leaning in, I kissed his cheek. That brought him back to me. His eyes met mine intently, like a child who would look to their mother for comfort and guidance.

"Herbert…" I held his gaze. "They're yours, too, if you would have them."

He dropped his gaze to our laps, and we both realized then our hands were intertwined. Herbert blinked in surprise, wiggling his fingers slightly. He squeezed my hand and blinked hard. I took his hand and gently placed it over the spot that housed our child. "Don't look back," I whispered, and it was then he leaned into me, overcome. I held him, and at that moment, it occurred to me that, despite our vast differences, we were more alike than either of us had even realized. We needed each other more than ever….. two symbiotic beings forging ahead in an uncertain, yet newly beautiful world.


	19. Taught Me So Much

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 19: Taught Me So Much

When we were finally out in the waves, Herbert sat as close to the water as he could without getting his clothes wet and watched us play while the rest of my family was all around us. And eventually, we all got tired. Drying off, we packed up our things and piled into the car; Daisy fell asleep against my arm half way home.

I was exhausted when we got home. Herbert asked Jane if he could use the phone privately, and she pointed him into the pantry at the back of the kitchen. It wasn't just a pantry, it was the size of a large walk in closet; it had countertops and an extra fridge, and a utility sink where we'd wash ourselves off after having been out in the garden. There was a phone in the corner, with extra paper and a phonebook. Emerging from the bathroom a little while later, I found Herbert getting off the phone, and I gave him an inquisitive look from across the room, turning my head at him. With a quick jerk of his head, he motioned for me to join him, flashing his Miskatonic faculty ID and a quick smile. I grinned and practically scampered off after him. I felt like a child on an adventure all of a sudden; a teenager planning on breaking curfew with her best friends and a case of beers.

Herbert dropped his voice when we reached the pantry. "Where's your school ID?"

"Upstairs in my backpack; why?"

"Good. We'll need it later."

"Wha- well, _why?_"

He took me gently by the elbow and led me into the pantry, away from my family, and leaned against the counter with a smile. "Well. We got ourselves a body."

"How?" I laughed.

"Funeral home up Church Street, on the way out of town. The place is run out of the church, and they had a woman who died just today that had no-one to claim her."

"That quick?!"

"Mm-hmm. They want us there at eight, and want us to bring our identification cards with us. I told them I am a professor and you are my assistant, and that we're short on cadavers back at the school; you and I are just picking it up for a night class at one of the satellite schools."

"Not bad," I smiled, turning to head upstairs. "Well, I'll go get in the shower now, then. Dinner's at six, and I'm making, so you better wash up, too."

After my shower, I pulled on some comfortable clothes and grabbed a towel from the closet to dry my hair. Making my way downstairs, I found Herbert pouring over another one of his medical journals with Steve in the kitchen. They had the stuff spread out over the island in the middle of the kitchen and were leaning over it all, totally lost. He was so enthused to have someone else with whom to share the excitement he felt for his art that I was almost slightly jealous, even though I knew the truth. I had to laugh at myself for a moment. It took Herbert and Steve looking up from my partner's books and papers to realize I may have actually laughed aloud. Herbert grinned incredulously at me. "What?"

I burst out laughing, hoisting myself up onto the opposing counter as I pulled out a cookie from the night before from the jar above the sink. "It's just….. _you…_ You're on a tear." I put down my cookie next to me so I could continue with the towel through my hair.

"Ugh. Please," his eyes narrowed at me, but he kept that devilish little grin. "You're just as bad as I am, and you know it."

"Oh, I never said anything about this being a _bad _thing, Herbert. That's all on you. Besides-" I couldn't stop myself in time for the dreaded final word to slip out, and they both caught it. I shrugged. "You're kinda cute when you're on a tear, is all." With that, and a look into those eyes, I couldn't help giggling. Herbert grinned, and Steve started to laugh.

"Hah, I dunno if that's how I'd describe mine after pulling a twelve-hour shift at the hospital," Shelley laughed, coming in with an armful of things she'd left in the car from the excursion to Essex Bay.

"Yeah, well, those PRN nurses never complain."

This got me and Herbert in fits of laughter; Shelley gasped, laughing and swatting at Steve with her magazine. "Man, Steve," I howled. "When was the last time you met a PRN nurse like that? That's _all_ I'd do if I were always on call!"

"Yeah, ya hear that?" Shelley grinned. "Caught you in a lie, boy."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Steve laughed, waving her away. "So Herbert, what was it about brain death….?"

"Yes!" He was back around the island and next to Steve, hunched over his books and notes again. "Well, after doing many years of research-"

"Ooh, boy, another tear again," I giggled hopping down off the counter with my towel. I finished off the last bite of the cookie, coming around next to Herbert, who looked up at me with one of those 'come-off-it' smiles creeping across his face. "Cute," I quipped, giving his cheek a quick kiss. "I'd join in but I need to finish upstairs. Later, Herbert?"

"Uh-huh. Anyway, I've found that in most cases….." I chuckled to myself as his voice drifted away on my ascent to the second floor.

I read and I studied after drying my hair, secluding myself in my old bedroom with the door open. The voices from downstairs comforted me as I read and wrote and poured away at what assignments I'd been given for the week. Normally, Herbert helped me with such things, but I wanted to venture out on my own. After an hour of that, my head began to swim. I got up to walk it off for a spell as I overheard Daisy reclaim her father from my partner. From the foyer upstairs, I could look down over the railings and into the living room where we'd had cookies and drinks the night before, and even a little into the kitchen, where Herbert was gathering up his things off the island, smiling ever so slightly to himself. Steve and Daisy were at the table then, playing together when Herbert turned to leave the room.

"Herbert," Steve called, and my partner turned. I could hear the smile in my cousin-in-law's face. "Thanks for the lesson."

There was enough of Herbert's face in view from where I stood to see the expression on his face, one he fought slightly at first. I was learning how to read him. His face relaxed into a genuine smile. "My pleasure, Steve." With that, and a nod, Herbert turned and made his way up the stairs.

"Hey, doc." Herbert was nearly to the top when I called to him quietly from my place in the foyer across the landing, and I came around to meet him. He turned as he rounded the last set of stairs, smiling in exhaustion and contentment, clutching his books to him. "Looks like you've made a friend, hmm?" I smiled at him encouragingly.

"It seems I have," Herbert made a noise of agreement. "Dinner in thirty minutes?"

"Mm-hmm," I nodded, finally in front of him.

"I'll go shower, too."

I held out my hands, and he handed me his books and papers with a weary smile. "I'll take care of them, doc. You have my word." I smiled.

"I trust you." He was smiling too.

My face filled out into a grin, and for some reason I could feel the blood rushing to my face, so I turned quickly and made my way back into my room, where I stored Herbert's things in his book bag. I could hear the creak of the hallway behind me, and Herbert's voice in the doorway. There was a hint of bemusement in his voice.

"I saw that, you know."

I froze and couldn't help but smile a little. "Saw what?"

"Don't play coy with me. You remember," he chuckled, the smile coming out a little more in his voice. I smiled, blushing even further at the memory as Herbert continued. I turned to look at him. "I've always admired and marveled at how you always seem to stay so positive."

"Thank you," I murmured, grinning, and felt that the blush just wouldn't quit. My eyes dropped to my feet. I chuckled then, shrugging in defeat. "I wish I could tell you my secrets."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry," Herbert responded softly as he pulled fresh clothes from his suitcase. He stopped and turned once he reached the door to the bathroom on the other side of my room. Looking back up to make eye contact with me, he smiled. "You've already taught me so much."


	20. Tina

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 20: Tina

I worked the stove quietly, my mind alight with the interaction between myself and Herbert moments ago, as well as all that we'd been through in the recent weeks and months. The lack of news concerning Kevin's disappearance worried me the most, although Herbert was always quick to reassure me it wasn't anything to be concerned over. It only meant that we had done a very, very good job.

There were arms around me then, and I jumped. Jane's laughter filled the room. "I'm sorry, sweetie, I didn't mean to scare you."

I laughed, leaning into my aunt. "It's okay."

"What're you thinkin' about there? You look so lost!"

"Oh, just…." I shook my head, desperate not to lie. "I have finals and graduation coming up and it's just wearing down on me, I guess." Not bad. I smiled inwardly.

"When will you finish your clinicals? Or have you started them yet?"

"I finished them early, actually. About six months ago."

"That fast?" Jane was surprised.

"I had Herbert to help me," I smiled at her, and she returned it.

"Such a strange young man. I like him immensely, no doubt, but I don't ever think I've met anyone like him."

"Hmm," I was still smiling as I broke away from my aunt to drain the pasta, then brought it back to the stove. "Neither have I. But be that as it may, he has been a great source of comfort to me. Sometimes I feel as if I learn more from him than I do my professors."

This made my aunt laugh. "Well, he certainly is very bright, that is no doubt. You want me to get the salad ready?"

"Yeah, would you? That'd be great, thanks."

We finished the dinner together, chatting happily as our family came and went, preparing to eat. Herbert was the only one who didn't seem to appear at all then, even after I heard the water shut off upstairs. Finally, as my family all filtered out to wash up for dinner, I was left alone again to wrap up the rest of the food prep, which wasn't much, since my family had helped. I was putting out the bread when I heard someone come into the kitchen, and when I turned I found it was my partner. His hair was still damp from the shower, and his hands were shoved deep in his pockets. I smiled. "Hungry, Herbert?"

"Very much so, yes. Need any help?"

"You're a little late, I'm afraid," I chuckled. "The others swooped in and got it done."

"Ah. My apologies."

"Nah, don't worry about it. You could go get the others, they're out back. Hmm?"

"Of course," he smiled and nodded, heading out back.

"Thanks, darlin."

He paused on his way out, and I did, too, the both of us realizing what I'd said. He smiled slightly without really looking at me and left the room as my face fleshed out into a grin.

My family came in then, followed by Herbert, and we all sat down to a wonderful meal together. I was so happy, but all I could think of was the job ahead of us that night. The excitement was almost too much for me to bear. It was so long ago that I'd given up the internal turmoil I'd felt, the struggle between right and wrong. It was replaced with the same obsessive excitement Herbert felt for his craft….. _our_ craft. Well. It would always be his. His and his first. The fact that he shared this gift with me was the most humbling feeling I'd ever experienced. I think the biggest fear of mine was, in gaining this new part of my life, I would lose part of myself. It was something I strived to maintain every day.

When dinner was done with, Herbert and I started to clear things up; we took our plates over and began cleaning, but my uncle stopped us. "Naw, Immi, honey, you made the dinner - we'll clean it, please." He grinned at me, taking the stack of plates from me and setting them in the sink.

"Aw, thanks, Harry," I smiled.

"What do you kids have planned for the night, hmm?" Jane smiled at us over the table as she started stacking the rest of the plates.

"Us?" I pointed to myself, and immediately felt rather silly. I giggled, shrugging. "Oh, well, um-" I found Herbert studying me intently from his place at the fridge, where he was putting away some of the leftovers. "I was thinking about showing Herbert around Innsmouth."

"It's getting so late, though; where will you go?"

"I seem to remember you telling me the museum is still open, if I remember correctly," Herbert interjected with a slight smile and an encouraging nod. I smiled.

"Oh, that should be fun," Shelley smiled, but then she gave a yawn. "I'm amazed you two still have the energy to go out and do anything after the day we've had."

I shrugged, smiling. "I guess it's just second wind, is all."

We gathered up our things, and I changed into something much more comfortable. If I was going to be spending the evening with a zombie, running the risk of being beaten again, by God, I was going to do it comfortably. After putting the back seats down to make room for the body, we threw our things into the back of our car. The sunlight was getting warm on the horizon, and again, it took us a few tries before the car spluttered to life. With Herbert directing me, we headed for the funeral home on the outskirts of town.

The lot, big enough for a crowd, was occupied by just two other cars when we got there. I stepped out of the car, straightening my shirt and my hair as Herbert fished our ID's out of his bag. Pulling on my jacket, I sighed, coming around to meet him. "Okay. Let's do this."

"Here, hold on," Herbert clipped my ID onto my coat pocket for me, then did the same with his, hooking it onto his jacket. He smiled at me. "Nervous?"

I shrugged. "Meh. Kindof. I'm always nervous, though."

"You'll do fine," he chuckled as we headed inside.

Little bells on the door announced our entrance. We stood at the doorway of the funeral home, studying our surroundings briefly before my partner finally turned to me with a sigh. "Well. This should be interesting."

"Hmm," I giggled. "When is it not?"

That sly, devil-may-care grin crept up on him again, and before he could respond, we were greeted by the sound of footsteps down at the end of the hall. We both turned in time to see an older gentleman appear from around the corner. He smiled when he saw us.

"You must be the doctors from Arkham."

I glanced at Herbert and smiled, nodding in response. "Yes, we are."

The man held out his hand. "Charles Ward. I'm the proprietor of the home. Sorry to have kept you."

"Not at all. Herbert West," my partner shook his hand. "This is my associate, Dr. Imogen Phillips. She is preparing for graduation from Miskatonic's pre-med program next week and will be assisting me in my work."

"Dr. Phillips?" Charles shook my hand. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate you helping us on such short notice."

"It's my pleasure. Nowadays it's pretty rare, and also pretty sad, when someone dies and has no-one to claim them. I feel better knowing this woman will at least be making her contributions to science."

Herbert and I glanced at each other quickly, and I nodded. "We agree."

"Well. Shall we?" Charles motioned for the hallway.

"Yes, let's."

We followed him down into the morgue, where we found the body ready for us. With Charles' help, we loaded it up into the car and made our way inland for the hills. The radio was on quietly in the darkened cabin. I glanced into the back seat as Herbert drove. The woman, wrapped in sheets, lay in the back seat, unmoving. I didn't know what I was expecting of her - at least, not yet - but as I glanced at her I contemplated where she may have come from. She was so young. She'd looked maybe thirty when we picked her up. Was she from Innsmouth or Arkham, like me? Did she see the world? Did she have children? If she did, and they cared, she wouldn't have been lying in the back of our car right then. I couldn't handle any more thoughts like that, so I turned to watch the dimming light from my passenger window. The full moon had long since began its ascent into the sky, giving us a clearer view of the legendary hills that called the area home. Lights here and there twinkled across the hills, indicating homes and cars and towns.

Herbert glanced at me. "Try not to think about it." I looked over at him and he continued. "We're doing her a favor, you know. It won't have to be this way for long. One day…. all of this will end."

I leaned my head back against the window and watched the stars above us. "I know," I whispered.

When we finally climbed out of the car a good twenty minutes later, the sun was down, and the sky was still an inky blue from the remnants of what little sunlight came up over the hills. It was about nine, and there were still cars that came and went every so often off of the country road, but we didn't want to wait before getting started. The body would only stay so fresh for so long.

"How are we gonna get the freshest body possible without killing someone ourselves, Herbert?" I asked him as we hoisted the woman out of the car and onto the grass. We'd found a small clearing off of the main road, one that looked to be deserted enough for us to work.

Herbert dusted his hands off, studying the woman out in front of us. He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sure. I'm still trying to figure that one out. It's tricky, that's for sure. Hmm." He resigned, going back to the car. "For now, let's focus on one thing at a time. Here," he tossed me a bottle of reagent, as well as a capped syringe, after pulling his notes out of his bag. He came over to me, but not before turning on the headlights of the car so we could see what we were doing. "This bottle is yours; I made two bottles of the exact same formula so we both could have a copy."

"You're leaving me in charge of this one?" I grinned at him. "And of the woman this time around?"

"Well, why not?" He smiled, bemused.

"Excellent," I nodded. "Alright, doc, let's do this."

"Alright." Herbert opened up his notes as we crouched over the woman. "The transient we re-animated took ten cc's; he seemed to be approximately one hundred forty pounds, and, well, you remember what happened with him. Vince said this woman clocked in at one-eighty. Let's say fifteen cc's, shall we? Go ahead."

I filled the syringe, stuffing the vial into my coat pocket before I injected the reagent into the base of the woman's skull. I set her back down gently, capping the needle and wrapping it up. I handed it to Herbert, who put it in the one pocket of his bag we had designated for used needles. He was already watching the time, and we stood back and waited. It didn't matter how many times I'd done this: my heart slammed like a cannon every time. But this time the woman wasn't moving. The pen flew over the page as Herbert made his notes, but she still wasn't moving. I realized then I was breathing hard.

"Herbert, she isn't moving."

"Forty seconds, no signs of life….." He crouched over her and checked her pulse. "Nothing. Damn!"

"Why didn't it ta-"

"_AAURRRGGHH!_"

The woman jolted to life with a howl, knocking Herbert over and causing me to scream. Herbert scrambled backwards over rock and dirt, leaping to his feet when he reached me. I grabbed him and pulled him away as the woman took a swing at us, missing Herbert's face by mere inches. He danced around her, scribbling away. "Forty-six seconds! Imogen, here!" He tossed me the journal over the woman's head. "Put it in my bag!"

"Won't you need it?" I called out over the woman's howls, dodging another blow.

"Not now. Do it! Hurry up!" I did as I was told, realizing I was, indeed, the closest to his bag, which he'd left on the hood of the car. "Imogen! Look out!" I'd just put the journal in Herbert's bag when he called out for me. It was too late; the woman slammed into me with such force that it lifted me up off the ground and I found myself on the hood of the car in seconds. She was unnaturally strong, just like the rest of them, and Herbert kicked her off of me. He reached for me, helping me down and pulling me away as the woman found her footing again. She roared at us, an unnatural scream of a sound that showed her absolute disapproval. Herbert stepped in front of me, and I glanced at him, surprised.

"No!" He emphasized, pointing a finger at her. "You know better!"

The woman lunged at him again, and he dodged, pulling me with him. "Stop it!" He shouted at her, and whirled around to face her as she was preparing to lunge at him again. "Stop!" And to my utter shock, she actually listened to him. She was still growling and screeching and making the most horrid noises, but she actually stopped.

"Now. Are you going to behave? Are you going to listen?" She paced and growled, but didn't make any further advances for us. My jaw was on the ground. "What's your name?" Herbert asked. She looked at him inquisitively, turning her head slightly. "Herbert," he pointed to himself. "Imogen," he pointed to me. Then he pointed to the woman. "You?" The woman pointed to herself slowly, drunkenly.

"_Oooo…."_ We watched the woman stumble around for a few moments; she studied her hands and the sky and the car, and then us. Herbert and I froze; I was clutching his arm so hard I was surprised he wasn't complaining, and I could feel my heart slamming in my chest, even harder now than it had been in the beginning. She put her face just a foot or so from Herbert's, poking at his glasses. "_Errrbbe….._"

"Yes," my partner nodded. "Herbert."

She looked at me, her face contorting in thought and effort, and I gasped, my grip tightening on Herbert's arm. "_Emmm…"_

I leaned into Herbert's arm, not sure what to think or feel. Fear? Excitement? Sorrow? Relief? I just nodded. "Imogen."

She stepped back, studying her hands again, and then herself fully. She was still in the plain cotton shirt and pants the funeral home dressed their bodies in while waiting to prepare them for services. She picked at the pieces of grass on her shirt, still swaying like a drunkard. "_Eeeeee… naaahh._" She pointed to herself. Herbert and I looked at each other. She spoke again, and seemed, this time, to try even harder. "_T-tt.. tt….. eeeeee… nnaaahh._"

My eyes widened. "Tina!" I blurted out the name before I knew what I was doing.

The woman's face fleshed out into what I could only assume to be a grin and she became very excited when I said the name. She pointed to herself. "_Ttt… eeee…. nnaahhh!_"

"My God, Herbert. We've done it. _You've _done it."

"Ooh, I wouldn't be so quick to judge. Remember, this body is only so fresh. I'm sure if we had that brand-new body, she'd probably be composing a sonnet by now."

"Heh," I scoffed. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?"

"Said the woman who claimed we'd done it."

"Point taken." My mood shifted then, from amused to horrified. I gave a moan. "Oh, Herbert….." I glanced over to him. We were still clutching at each other, and he met my gaze. "What are we gonna do?"

In front of us, Tina came over, grinning and laughing, and patted us on the shoulders.

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MUSIC:

I was inspired by Peter Gabriel's "Growing Up" for a lot of the reanimation scenes, especially this one, and others like it. It documents the life process, from birth to death; I was inspired by this song when it came to the reanimated because it really is like they're getting a whole new life.

Also, the song "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons inspired me, as well - "Welcome to the new age" - it's like a song for the reanimated, as well as Herbert and Imogen. Their work is being refined…..


	21. Burning Bridge

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 21: Burning Bridge

We helped her walk, we helped her talk, and, eventually, like anyone would after having been born, she grew tired. Curling up at the grassy base of a large alcove of trees, she passed out.

Herbert and I watched her, dumbfounded at what we'd created. "What should we do? We can't just leave her here. And we can't move her, either."

"No, that's true." Herbert's eyes furrowed in thought as he studied our surroundings. He finally gave a sigh. "I'm going to finish my notes for the time being."

I nodded as he walked off for the car and climbed into the driver's seat. Tina didn't move; her chest rose and fell steadily, and, as a matter of fact, she even snored ever so slightly. "Huh," I chuckled. "I'll be damned." But, within moments, a new sound pricked up my ears. I turned my head from side to side, trying to determine where the low rumbling was coming from. It was when Tina gave a slight jerk that I realized it was coming from her. I knelt down and put my ear a mere few inches from her abdomen and, sure enough, there was that sound. It was like she was hungry; it was the sound an empty stomach would make, but there was something wrong with the way it sounded. And it started to get louder. "Herbert?" I barely had the time to turn to him; his eyes met mine from the cabin of the car.

It was then the shit hit the fan.

The howling roar that exploded from the very depths of this woman was upon me, making me jump clean out of my skin. Tina was on her feet in a split second, her face further distorted from how we'd found it earlier. Her eyes were a pale blue and without iris; she screamed a scream more terrible than anything I'd ever heard. Herbert was out of the car and practically on top of me.

"_Move! Now!_" He dragged me away then, in time for the entire affair to begin again, only ten times worse. Tina literally _pushed_ the nearest tree over with little effort on her part, and that's when she turned on us, crouched in a feral position, ready to pounce. I gaped in horror as the blood began to pour from her mouth. Screaming, I scampered back over the grass as Herbert lost his grip on my arm, falling backwards. She was on top of me, howling, and I must have been struck at least three or so times before Herbert was able to knock her off of me. I lay sprawled out on my back; the stars spun above me so that I couldn't tell which were real and which were from the blows. The sounds of a scuffle were all around me.

"Herbert… Herbert….." I tried desperately to get up to help him, but my head was swimming. I rolled onto my side and managed to prop myself up on one arm. Herbert had her by the throat, and she was flailing wildly. She finally managed to kick him off, and he went flying into the side of the car with a sickening thud. My partner hit the car's side so hard, the force of it lifted the car up on that side. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"_Herbert, no!_"

Her head snapped around to find me again, snarling; I was yards away at that point, half way across the field, and she hunkered down then and came at me. Terror gripped me to the spot and I couldn't get away. I watched, terrified, as my death came to hit me. Something flashed out of the corner of my eye - a motorcycle! Someone on a motorcycle came tearing down the path, oblivious to the pandemonium occurring in our little field. It made its way to the main road, but Tina noticed it, too. The shine that bounced off its painted surface caught her attention, and her course was quickly diverted to go chasing the biker down. I waited and watched as they disappeared into the distance, the sounds of her screams getting farther and farther away. I collapsed again, panting, amazed at how I'd made it through that night. And I chided myself when the tears started to flow, but damn, did my face hurt. Not only that, I was terrified, and Herbert - _Herbert!_

I leapt up and raced for my partner, who was still passed out and crumpled next to the car. There was a gash in his forehead, and my heart gave a huge pang. "Herbert? Hey, hey, come on, wake up. Herbert! Please, wake up….."

"Uuugghh….."

"Yes! Herbert, can you hear me?"

"Imogen?"

"Oh, thank God….. Is there anything broken?"

"I… I don't think so…." He gave a cry of pain as he tried to push himself up.

I winced. "Oh, honey….. don't move, okay? Your head's banged up pretty good. Hang on." I jumped up, scrambling through the back of the car to pull together an extra set of napkins I'd stashed there from the one night I'd had take out that week, as well as a bottle of water. I collapsed in front of him again; he was breathing hard, leaning his head against the car.

"Ooh, boy. I certainly hope the earth stops spinning soon."

I stared at him. "You did hit your head pretty hard."

"What about you?" He stared back. "Your face….." Herbert reached up to gently touch the side of my face, and, despite his light touch, it hurt. I winced, pulling away. She'd hit me hard, but….. Getting up, I checked my face out in the side mirror of the car. The moon gave me just enough light to see the bruises beginning to form there. "Damn," I swore, sitting back with Herbert. I took his face in my hand, wiping away the blood with one of the napkins and then rinsing his hand with the water. He made a face, but kept still as best he could. "Can you get up?"

"I believe so."

"I wanna move you to the car. You'll be more comfortable there." With my help, Herbert was able to get to his feet and slide into the passenger side of the car. I went around to the driver's seat, grabbing his bag as I went around and throwing it into the back seat. Climbing into the driver's seat, I slammed the door shut, locked up the car, shut out the headlights and pulled Herbert towards me. We laid out on the seats together, breathing hard, still terrified from what had just happened.

There was a long bout of silence before, "Where did she go?"

"She got distracted by a biker and ran off after him. Nearly killed the both of us."

"Mmm. We'll have to find her, you know."

"Yeah, Herbert, I know. I don't want you to worry about that right now, okay? I'll take care of everything. Don't worry."

"Mmm…." Herbert then gave a yawn. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a murmur. "I trust you." With that, he was asleep in my arms. Leaning back into the seat, staring up at the roof of the car, it wasn't long before sleep overtook me, too.

xxxxxxxxxx

The bright sun woke me suddenly the next morning, and the second thing I noticed was the singing of the birds outside the car. I could hear a couple of them scuttling around on the metal roof of our car, chirping at each other merrily. Herbert and I were nestled up against each other, beaten and battered and defeated. I felt like hell.

"Hrrrmmph, ugh….." I shielded my eyes from the garish light that made them ache.

"Mmm… Imogen?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"Everything went to shit," I sighed. "We need to go find Tina."

Herbert slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes. The blood had stopped flowing, but now it was caked to the side of his face. "She could be anywhere."

"I know." The realization was a weight that sank my heart. "How do you feel?"

"Fairly well, actually. My head's still somewhat sore, but it should be fine." He glanced over at me, and his eyes went wide. "Oh, Imogen….."

"What?"

Herbert moved the rear-view mirror down at an angle that allowed me to see myself, and I gasped when I finally did. The entire upper left quadrant of my face was one giant bruise - blue and purple and vomit green and crimson red and moldy yellow. I closed my eyes and had to look away; the image was making my stomach turn. "Ooh, no….." I moaned. shielding my face from the view. "I can't believe this is happening to us. What did we do wrong?"

"We'll have to determine the answer to that once we find her and run tests. It may be something that was wrong with the formula. My notes….." He glanced around him and fished his journal out of his bag, and he furiously began to write. But moments later, he glanced around him, and then to me. "Which way did she go?"

"Uuh…. that way," I pointed. "Back into town. The biker took the main road."

"Okay. Let's see what we can do. Hit it!"

I pulled out onto the main road, kicking up rocks and dust as I tore out of the little field and made my way back into Innsmouth. It wasn't long before we came upon the accident. "Herbert." I swatted his arm. "Look." I pointed out in front of us, and he glanced up.

There, on the side of the road, was a small fire, and a pile of something in the bushes. "Pull over," Herbert commanded, and I did as I was told. There, engulfed in flames, was the same, shiny motorcycle I'd seen the night before, with the driver pinned down underneath it, obviously dead. And out in front of the bike by about six to ten feet was Tina.

She was sprawled out on her back and practically unidentifiable, her head on backwards and covered in blood. Her limbs were crooked, but the one thing that was the most alarming was the fact that it looked as if something had exploded straight from her ribcage, from the one area I'd sworn I'd heard that unearthly grumbling. She was clearly dead. No human or any other animal could survive anything like that. I felt myself starting to get sick. Turning away, I stumbled back to the car; Herbert stood swearing at what was left of Tina's feet.

"Herbert," I called out to him. "Can we go? Come on, let's just….. let's go home. Please? I wanna go back to my family and get my things and go home. Come on."

In somewhat of a daze, Herbert came back to the passenger's side and was about to get in when he stopped. "Wait."

"What now?"

"I need to gather samples. Damn!" He swore, frowning hard. "How could I have been so stupid? I should have gotten blood samples _before_ we began working, too." Herbert sighed then, beginning to dig through the pockets of his book bag, finally producing a syringe. He went back to Tina, and I followed him, standing over him as he crouched down beside her mangled corpse and drew a large sample of blood from her arm. "That'll have to do," he sighed again, studying the full syringe. Herbert studied the area around us. "We'll have to get this home as soon as possible. I knew I should have packed my microscope."

"Herbert….." He glanced up at me when I said his name. "We're going home today, remember? We can do it then. Don't worry."

"Yes, you're right. No sense in being too hasty. Alright. Now. We need to get rid of her." In moments, we'd hoisted what was left of Tina into the back of our car and were ready to roll again.

"Where are we going to leave her?" I asked my partner.

"We can dump her in the bay on the way home."

Happy with his answer, I started up the car and we silently made our way back into town. We weren't very far outside of Innsmouth when the car began to sputter.

"Oh, fuck, no, man. Come _on! _You have _got _to be kidding me." I slammed my fist into the steering wheel as the car spluttered and died. I tried turning the keys over again and again. Next to me, Herbert groaned in annoyance. I threw the keys against the dash. The old clunker had finally met its end.

"Ugh, I've had it! How in the hell are we going to get home now? How are we going to get any work done?"

Herbert climbed out of the car. "Get the supplies. We're not far from your family's house."

"We're walking?!"

"Uh, yes, Imogen," Herbert peered back into the car. "Unless you have another idea."

"What about the body?" I groaned, leaning back into the seat. All of a sudden, I did have another idea. We'd still have to walk those last few miles, but it would at least give us something to laugh about while getting the lead out. "Herbert," called out as I climbed out of the car, going around back to the trunk and pulling it open. "Empty the car, will you? Empty it of everything we desperately need, and leave Tina." I began to dig through our supplies in back. "Where is it, where is… Aha! Yes." Old bottles of ammonia and alcohol that had gone bad were stacked up in one of our crates; we'd kept them there to get rid of at school but had forgotten. Some old sheets of butcher paper were left in back, as well. Hoisting the box and the reams out of the back, I called out for Herbert. He'd already done what I'd told him to; our bags were left out on the side of the road.

"Help me push the car out into the field, behind those trees."

"What?"

"You heard me. C'mon." I set the box down on the side of the road and went around to the trunk, slamming it shut. Herbert gawked at me. "Look, are you gonna leave me to it, then? I realize we both have been through a lot, but I need your help. I mean, look at me." I motioned for my belly.

"Oh, for Christ's sake. Fine." Rolling up his sleeves, he got down with me and helped push the old thing as far out into the field as we could, far enough away from the road to not easily be seen. "What the hell are we doing out here, anyway, Imogen? C'mon, we need to go."

"We will, Herbert, don't worry. You have a lighter?"

"Why?"

"Yes or no."

He sighed, aggravated. "Yes. Why."

"I'm so sick of this fucking car, and I know you are, too. Consider this my apology." I grinned, holding up the paper and the ammonia. "Molotov cocktail funeral pyre."

Herbert mulled it over, and fought a smile. He reached into his pocket and tossed me the lighter. "Let's make this quick, shall we?" He was clearly amused.

It didn't take long; soon, we had a dozen Molotov cocktails ready and at our disposal. After dousing Tina in the remaining ammonia, we went to work.

"Alright, here we go. Let 'em fly!"

Holding the jar away from me slightly as to not ignite my clothes, I took a bit of a running start, launching the glass bottle into the sky. The air rushed past the jars of liquid as the little fires lit the sky like fireflies, even in the morning light. Our first two hit the car with not so much as a tweak, and we sent out seconds, but within moments, _boom!_, the entire back of the car was engulfed in flames. "_Woohoo!_" I cheered, and next to me, Herbert laughed. We circled the car like a pack of hunters, letting the jars fly. It was an awful stench, the smells of burning flesh and rubber merging, and I knew we weren't doing shit for the environment. But damn, did it make us feel better. We let off the rest of the cocktails as the fire bled into the sky. Linking my arm through Herbert's, we watched the car get devoured.

"It's you and me, baby," I grinned at Herbert.

"Against the world," he smiled back.

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MUSIC:

The song this chapter is named after is the song that inspired the last scene in this chapter, in which Herbert and Imogen destroy her car after it finally craps out for the last time. "Burning Bridge," by Kate Bush, is such an awesome song - when it starts, you can practically hear the Molotov cocktails go sailing through the air! :D And the last line here "You and me, baby, against the world" is a lyric pulled directly from the song.


	22. Concocting a Story

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 22: Concocting a Story

Eventually the smell got to be too much for us, and I began to worry someone would see and-or smell the wreck and come looking, so we snatched up our things and began to walk. It was a pleasant morning, not too warm like the summer had normally been; then again, it was still early. When I asked Herbert for the time only minutes into our walk, he told me it was eight thirty.

"My family is gonna kill me," I muttered aloud to myself. "What are we gonna tell them?"

A devilish little smirk sprouted across Herbert's tired face. "We could tell them we went out after the museum for some extra-curricular activities when our car was robbed and we were beaten."

My jaw dropped. "Wha- I just- Herbert West, you are the worst!"

He cackled. "Would you tell them the truth?"

"No!" I found myself laughing, too. "But what would they believe?" I mulled it over for a few moments, still smiling despite the events of the night and morning. "Oh, my God, this _sucks!_" I groaned, yet I couldn't stop laughing. But the more I thought about it, I realized we really would have to come up with _something_ to tell them. "Okay, fine. But here's the story: we were _driving back_ from the museum, stopped at a light, when we were car-jacked. They made us drive out to the middle of nowhere, killed one of their companions and then torched the car. We managed to escape and hide from them, and in the morning we started walking back. How's that?"

Herbert nodded, smiling. "I like it."

"Okay. Then that's what we're using. Now, c'mon."

It was another hour before we reached town; we'd dodged being spotted by the occasional passing car by ducking behind the foliage that lined the road for miles around. Another twenty minutes after that and we were approaching my family's house. It was ten thirty by the time we got home, and as I slowly pushed the front door open, I could hear my family up and about. Shelley was trotting down the steps as Herbert and I, leaning against each other, entered the living room. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as her hands flew to her mouth. "Mom!" She practically screamed. "Mom! They're home! Hurry!"

Jane flew into the living room from the kitchen, worry painted as clear as day across her face. She gave a cry when she saw our condition.

"Hi, Aunt Jane."

"Oh! Imogen! Oh, baby!" She came to me, pulling me up in a hug. "Your face….. Herbert, your head! Oh, sweet Jesus, what happened?! When you didn't come home last night, we were so worried!"

"Um…" I swallowed hard and took in a breath. "Well, we were on our way home late last night when we were mugged. These guys, they….. there were three of them, and a lady, too; the four of them took our car at gunpoint, and forced us into the back of the car. They drove us half way to Dunwich before…" My eyes welled over in honest tears, remembering how scared I really was for the two of us. It was then the rest of my family came in.

"Imogen, Herbert, come here, sit down….." Jane and Shelley led us over to the sofa in the living room, and we all sat together. "Here, let me take your coat, sweetie." Jane helped me out of the thing, rushing to hang it up in the closet before running back into the living room.

"They beat us and were going to kill us. The lady, she- Jesus, she was so strong. She beat the crap out of me, and Herbert came between us. That's when one of the guys attacked _him._ Anyway, um…. In the insanity of it all, we got away and they accidentally killed the woman they were with, thinking it was me. Boy, they were really mad. It was so dark at that point that we were able to hide and they fled in my car. I was so scared," I sniffled, finally able to tell the one piece of truth - well, outside of the woman beating me. I scooted in towards Herbert, and he didn't flinch or move when I leaned my head on his shoulder.

"So you two have been up all night?" My uncle frowned sadly.

Herbert shook his head. "We found a place to sleep after they drove off. There was an alcoving of underbrush and trees; we made camp there."

"What happened when you woke up? Did you see them again?"

"No. We just started walking," I told Shelley. "It took us about an hour and a half or so to get home from where we were. We're still very tired, and very weak."

"Oh, baby, I'm sure. We need to call the police!" Jane became very agitated.

"Oh, Jane, no-"

"No?! Imogen, you and Herbert were attacked, and your car was stolen! This needs to be reported!"

"Okay, and we will do just that! But please….." I pleaded with my aunt. "Please. Just….. Can we go rest for awhile first? Please? We…. we're in a lot of pain, and we can't function like this."

My aunt calmed for a moment, glancing over to Harry, who shrugged and nodded. "I think that's the best option, Jane. They've been through enough."

"Alright. Get on upstairs, you two. Oh - are you hungry?"

I smiled, remembering I, too, had a stomach. "Actually….." I glanced at Herbert, who smiled ever so slightly. "Yes, I could eat something."

"I believe I could, as well, thank you."

"Okay, kids." My aunt smiled at us lovingly. "C'mon, come sit down real quick. We just wrapped up breakfast."

We followed her into the kitchen, where Jane brought us plates of eggs, bacon and her Innsmouth-famous hash browns, all of which we inhaled in a matter of seconds and downed with glasses of milk.

"Thank you so much, Jane," Herbert said quietly, taking up his plate and glass to rinse them.

"Oh, darlin, no-" she smiled, chuckling. "You are always ever so welcome, my dear boy, but let me take those. You and my niece have, indeed, been through enough….. Now, get on upstairs and wash up and rest."

We didn't have to be told twice. Dragging ourselves up the stairs, we both fished out fresh clothes. I showered first, and then Herbert went in, but before he got in the shower I cleaned his forehead of the excess dirt and blood. When he was done in the shower I bandaged him up, and we collapsed in bed. I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

I don't think I'd ever slept so solidly in my life. When I finally came to, I noticed I'd done such hardcore sleeping that I hadn't even moved from the position I'd fallen asleep in. Rolling over, I found Herbert was still passed out. So I let him sleep. Cautiously climbing out of bed, I stumbled over to my dresser groggily, studying my face in the mirror hanging above it. The section of my face covered in bruises wasn't too swollen, which surprised the hell out of me, but it certainly was colorful. Behind me, Herbert shifted in bed, groaning. "What time is it?"

"Um….." I coughed. "I dunno. Hang on-" I glanced at the clock across the room and my eyes went wide. "Five o'clock!"

"Five? What?" Herbert lifted his head, but it proved to be too much for him and he let it drop back onto the bed with another groan. "I've got to start my notes. I have so much to do."

"Herbert," I turned back to him, going over to sit on my side of the bed next to him. "Please….." He turned his head to look me over, waiting for me to continue. "Give it a little longer. I only ask this of you because of my family. We can't be flying off to our bat-cave like we do at home. We're going home tonight anyway- Oh, shit, the car!" I groaned. "What are we gonna do?"

My partner buried his face in his hands, and I lay down, resting my head on his chest. "Ugh," he groaned. "We are so screwed." He gently draped an arm across my stomach as we gazed up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to do. His hand met mine in seconds, and they stayed together. Glancing down, Herbert studied my hand in his, our hands over my stomach, my stomach that housed our creation. The look on his face was one I'd never seen before. It was incredible. It was new. It was frightening, fascinating, wonderful, devastating, confusing. It was something I didn't have time to pin down as someone knocked on my bedroom door.

"C'mon in," I called out. Shelley entered, and when the door opened we could hear the sounds of the family downstairs. "Hey, Shelley," I grinned. "What's goin' on?"

"You guys hungry?"

"Oh, yeah!"

"Good," Shelley smiled, leaned against the doorframe. "Dinner's about ready. You guys call the cops yet?"

Herbert glanced up at her, then down at me, clearing his throat. "Um-"

"Ah, no- no, not yet," I told her. "We need to get home soon, and were gonna call once were home."

"Okay. I can give you a ride."

"Really?"

"Yeah. After dinner. It's about ready.

"Oh, thanks, Shelley, thanks a lot," I smiled, relieved. "You want us to do anything to get ready for the food?"

"Nah," she shook her head.

"Great, we'll be right down."

"'Kay! See ya down there!" Shelley grinned and practically skipped down the hall.

Sitting up, I turned back to Herbert. He was speechless, and still had a look of star-struck disbelief on his face as he studied mine. Grinning, I kissed him. "C'mon. Dinnertime."

After we ate, we packed our things, then brought them down to the foyer of the living room. Shelley, Steve and Daisy would be staying on for one more night, but Herbert and I wanted to get home to study Tina's blood and figure out what happened - as well as how we would get around for the next few days. Herbert and I thanked my family, and after packing Shelley's trunk with our things, the two of us climbed into the back of her car. The sun was beginning to set then, and it was dusk when Shelley pulled into our driveway. I kissed her goodbye and she headed back to Innsmouth.

We were like kids on Christmas once entering the house. Barely throwing down our suitcases, ignoring the fact we were still in our coats and things, we raced downstairs with Tina's blood to start working on it. I did, however, manage to pull my coat off just before going down into the basement and threw it on the kitchen table.

"Get me those slides, will you, Phillips?" Herbert, all business, pointed to one of the metal cabinets in the far corner of the basement as he rounded his desk. Pulling off his coat, he tossed it across one of the chairs in the corner and rolled up his sleeves, readying the microscope. Grabbing one of the small boxes down from the top shelf, I hurried to his side, passing him one of the slides from inside the package. He made it up with Tina's blood and put it under.

He grinned after a moment of looking through. "Here," he tilted the viewfinder towards me. "Take a look."

I beamed back at him. "Yeah?" Still grinning, Herbert nodded, putting his hands on his hips, so I took a peek. Tina was dead when we received her; her blood should therefore have reflected as such, but instead, it was in a strange state of limbo - half-living, half-dead, giving off a slight and eerie neon glow. It was much like the tissue we'd tried time and again, but much more potent. I stood up and couldn't stop grinning at him. "The best I've seen, Herbert!"

"Indeed," Herbert nodded, victorious.

"I'm proud of you."

He let his arms fall to his sides, clearly taken aback. "Thank you," he murmured. It took him a moment before he shook it off, reverting back to business. "But we can't get too proud yet - there's still so much I need to do…." His voice trailed off as he studied the room.

"What do you want me to do? You need me to get anything?"

"Uh- well… We will need another body eventually. I will need your help with that. In the meantime, I'll get to work on this and let you know."

"You got it, doc."

xxxxxxxxxx

It was another early day for us. After spending the night in the basement, Herbert was called in to help with an end-of-semester cleaning of the lab while I went in to take my last final. We took the bus in together, but Herbert stayed on to finish his work and I went home alone at about four.

I threw down my keys when I got in, relief flooding my mind. I was done! It was finished! I was a college graduate. How grateful I was that now I finally had time to myself again. Medical school was up next, and that terrified me, but for the time being, I was content to work for a year before starting up again. All I had to worry about at that point was the graduation ceremony itself, which wasn't for another two days. I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do with myself, and I grinned at the thought of sheer boredom. I couldn't wait for Herbert to get home so we could celebrate. And by celebrate, I meant work!

In the meantime, I reveled in said boredom. I started a book and read a third of it before getting restless. I raided the fridge. I turned on the radio and danced with the coat rack. I sat backwards on the couch and watched the paint peel from the ceiling when I got tired. And when I got restless again, I went down into the basement to store my school books.

It wasn't long before Herbert got home; our excitement over the breakthrough with the reagent was still going strong, and so we worked hard in the basement for a few hours to try and perfect the formula. It looked good, so Herbert made a few spare bottles, which took him most of the night. The next day, we knew we'd not be able to find any sort of body. Oh, we looked, all right - there was just none to be found. There was a little bit of the old reagent left - about twenty cc's - the same formula we'd used on Tina, so Herbert labeled it and stored it away.

Finally, graduation day had arrived. Dan and Meg came over at nine that morning, and my family wasn't too far behind - Shelley, Steve, and Daisy included. The nine of us headed to the university, where I tossed my cap with all the others. Jane took so many pictures; Herbert even took one of me with my aunt, uncle, cousin, and her family. Then there was one of me, Dan, and Meg. "Okay, Herbert, you get in there," Jane grinned, taking back the camera and pointing to me.

"Me?" Herbert smiled slightly.

"Yeah, you, son!" She laughed. "I want one of you and Imogen now."

Giggling, buried my face in my free hand, clutching my hat and diploma in the other as Herbert came over with a smile on his face fleshing out into a grin. "I'm proud of you, Phillips." With that, he slid an arm around my shoulders and smiled for the camera; I had just enough time to rest my head on his shoulder and smile before the flash went off.

After a wonderful day out, complete with an awesomely huge meal at an amazing restaurant downtown, we all walked around the city, mingling with some of the other students who'd also just graduated. And it was at dinner that my aunt and uncle surprised me with the same gift they'd surprised Shelley with upon her graduation: a huge chunk of money with which to start my new life. Steve and Shelley even pitched in to buy me a used car. I started crying right there at the table and Herbert had no idea what to do, other than gently pat my hand. I was set for a good long while.

It wasn't too long after heading around the city before we all became quite tired, and Dan and Meg left us then, ready to go off to some party Meg's lab partner was hosting. We said our goodbyes and headed home. My family didn't stay long; they left as the sun set.


	23. Half Jack

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 23: Half Jack

The next day, Herbert had some work to complete at the university, and I didn't have much of anything to do, so I spent the day buying a handful of things for the baby. We ended up doing much of the same thing we'd done the last day of classes: we drove into town together, and I came home early to wait for him so we could continue our work. I insisted upon giving him a ride, but he said no, that he wasn't sure when he'd be back, and didn't want to inconvenience me, and wanted me to focus on our work. So when I arrived home, I followed the instructions Herbert had given me on the way in: he wanted me to create a median between the old Reagent formula used on Tina and the new formula we'd perfected using her blood. Ten cc's of the Tina formula and ten cc's of the new one. It took me a little while; I wrote everything down, labeled the new vial and stored everything away in their rightful places.

There was a knock at the door just as I was coming up from the basement. I opened the door to find a man in his early sixties there, a man with messy hair and messy clothes - clearly not homeless, but clearly not well-kept, either. As a matter of fact, there was the distinct smell of booze in the air. I didn't know him, but there was something about this guy that was slightly familiar. Still, my excitement slowly morphed into cautious curiosity. Just because he seemed familiar didn't mean he was welcome. "Can I help you?"

The man grinned at me, a grin that left me even more unsettled. He indicated a piece of paper in his hand; when he spoke, his words were slightly slurred. "I hope I'm at the right address. Does Herbert West live here?"

"Um…. may I ask who's coming to call?" I smiled uncomfortably.

"Ah," the man's grin filled out even more. "He does, doesn't he?"

"Well, yes."

"I wanna speak with him."

"I'm sorry, but he's not home at the moment. He's working."

"When's he getting back?"

"Soon, I should hope. Why don't you tell me your name, sir, and I will tell him you came by."

"I can wait."

My heart stumbled. I cleared my throat. "Actually, I….. I'm very sorry, but I myself am occupied at the moment, as well. I feel it'd be best if you came back at a later time."

"Hmm, no," the man shook his head, and my skin began to crawl. He wasn't backing down from his spot on my porch. "I'm feeling like I should come in and wait."

"Excuse me, who-" I found my self stumbling over my words and I tried to calm myself with another deep breath. "Who did you say you were, again?"

"West. Quentin West. I'm Herbert's father." He was growing impatient, swaying uneasily on his feet. "Now, are you going to let me in, or are you going to let me in?"

xxxxxxxxxx

I sat on the couch, my coat clutched in my hands as Quentin West paced the floor of my living room. It was deathly silent outside of the sounds of his footsteps and the slamming of my heart. Every so often, he'd check his watch, then shove his hands back in his pockets and keep pacing.

"What you say your name was, again, kid?"

"Imogen."

"Imogen what?"

"Phillips."

"Hm." He did a double-take at my face and winced, pointing. "What happened to you?"

I touched my cheek absent-mindedly. "Oh. Um- we were mugged the other night."

"Oh." It took him a few moments to stop pacing when something about me caught his attention. He came to lean over me, and I felt my whole body tense up. "Wait a minute, stand up. C'mon, get up." I was dumbfounded, so he grabbed me by the arms and hoisted me up. I faltered on my feet for a moment, then righted myself. Quentin looked me over, his eyes landing on my stomach. My eyes went wide and I covered myself with my jacket. "How'd you say you knew my son, again?"

"We- we were lab partners. In college. And we're roommates, too." I paused, my voice dropping. "Made it easier for us to study late nights together. So we didn't bother anybody."

"Huh," Quentin scoffed, glancing down at my stomach again. "'Study.' 'Late nights.' You sure you weren't helping him 'study' anatomy?" His face suddenly fleshed out into another strange grin at his joke, and he began to laugh. "Excellent, looks like I'm gonna be a grandpa at last." He checked his watch again. "Hey, you got a phone?"

"Uh- yeah, it- it's in the kitchen," I pointed.

"And a bathroom?"

"End of the hall."

He made his way for the phone, pointing to the sofa. "Sit down, before you strain yourself."

I didn't have to be told twice. I collapsed into the sofa before he could finish, trembling. From my place in the living room, I could hear the phone dialing. "Yeah, Richie, it's me. Yeah, I know. I'm made it to Arkham. Thought I'd pay my son a little visit before going into Dunwich….. Don't be such a Nazi, man! I know I'm supposed to call you every day at five. So what if it's ten after! Why are all you parole officers the same? I just found out I'm gonna be a grandpa, man…. Heh, thanks. Yeah, I had no idea he even had a chick. Some son, right?…. Whatever. I was an alright father… Wha- No, I have _not_ been drinking-… I am _not_ slurring my words! Look, I don't have to put up with this shit, man, I'm in a good mood and I'm looking forward to spending some time with my son, so bugger off." He got ready to hang up but changed his mind. "What? Ugh. Yeah. Fine. I'll call you when I get into Dunwich. Ya friggin' pansy." He finally dropped the receiver back into the cradle and went off for the bathroom without so much as a glance in my direction.

It was a good thing, too. As he was hanging up and shutting the door on the bathroom, I noticed movement out front. Herbert was finally coming home. I was instantly flooded with relief, but also with the insane desire to cry as he came through the door in his usual quiet manner and found me sitting, rigid and wide-eyed, on the couch. I put a finger to my lips. "Ssh," I hushed quietly, trembling, tears finally springing to my eyes. I pointed to the bathroom. "C'mere," I whispered, motioning him for me. He quietly dropped his bag at the door and came to sit next to me on the couch, putting an arm around me. He stared me down intensely, trying to figure out what was going on. I shook my head, barely able to speak. "I'm sorry," I finally managed to whisper, grabbing onto him as the tears spilled over. "I'm so sorry."

Herbert was cocking his head at me, confused, when the bathroom door opened and his father emerged, taking a swig from the flask he'd kept hidden until then. My partner recoiled, backing away from Quentin in horror as he put an arm across me. His whole face drained of color and he started to shake.

"Hey, kid!" Quentin grinned when he saw his son was home. "Look at you, a right doctor! I can't believe it."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Herbert's voice was quiet, but steady.

"Just passing through. Wanted to see what my boy was up to."

I grabbed Herbert's arm and leaned in. "Don't be afraid," I whispered. "We'll settle this together." Herbert's gaze met mine knowingly, and when I nodded, his eyes shot back for his father.

"Aren't y'all cute. How great is it that I'm gonna be a granddad, huh?"

Herbert's face contorted in disgust. "You will never know this child," he declared.

Quentin frowned harshly. "Never know- you bet your ass I'm gonna know my own grandkid, ya little bastard. Don't you speak to your father th-"

"What in the hell is wrong with you?" My courage came to me in a rush, seeing him have such an effect on my partner. I came to stand in front of him, separating him from his father protectively. "Where do you get off, treating your son like this? Why did you even come here, really? You think you're pretty tough, huh?"

"Imogen! Please!" Herbert tugged at my arm. His voice, cracking, was that of a child, a terrified and defeated little boy; this, along with the thought of a small, vulnerable little Herbert being beaten and tormented by this monster was more than enough to make the anger boil inside of me like a volcano, ready to erupt.

"What did you say to me?" Quentin was a monster, hovering above me. He reeked of booze. I was terrified, but the love I had for Herbert won over the fear I had for his father.

"You heard me, you miserable piece of shit."

We stood there for a handful of moments, squaring off, when, out of no-where, WHAM! His fist came down over my face so fast I found myself splayed out across the room in seconds before I even saw it coming. Fourth-of-July fireworks went off in my eyes as my head reeled; my whole body screamed in pain from hitting the hard wood floors of our living room. Tears flowed freely, as he'd not only punched me, but got me right in the bruise Tina had given me. But what scared me the most was that my baby could have been damaged.

"NO!" Herbert lunged at his father, but he was met with the same fate as myself. His father sent him flying into the wall with a sickening, reverberating 'thud' and he crumpled on the floor, unconscious. I started screaming then, and I tried to get up to go to him, but Quentin kicked me back down and grabbed me by the hair, dragging me to my feet. "Get up!" He began to drag me away. I broke free for a moment, and immediately rushed to my partner.

"Herbert, please!" I wept, shaking him. "Wake up! Wake up, you've _got_ to wake up! Please!" I was immediately snatched up again by his father, who dragged me down to the hall as I kicked and screamed and tried my best to get away. "Herbert! Herbert!" The door to the basement was open. Quentin noticed this, and dragged me down. At that point, all I could think about was my baby and my partner. My body had been through so much already, what with being attacked by Tina; we didn't need this. And didn't this make the _second_ time someone had attacked us and dragged me into the basement? It was getting tiresome. But when you're a dealer of death, you need to be prepared for it to follow you wherever you go. After all, one must know the product they sell…

He somehow managed to be on top of me, and I was on the cold basement floor, fighting as best I could. I screamed when he hit me again, I screamed when he pinned my arms down. He grinned at me. "I can see why my son likes you so much."

Horrified, my breath caught in my throat. "You're sick."

"And you're pretty. Although I never envisioned my son ever ending up with anybody. He always seemed to kinda fall short when it came to women." Quentin laughed. I wanted to kill him.

"You son of a bitch, get the fuck off of me." I fought and finally freed a leg to kick him squarely in the shin. I missed my intended target, but nonetheless, I'd hit him. Either way, he didn't like it, and so he hit me again, and I cried out. My stomach churned when I realized how this was going to end for me. He tried to kiss me, and I shook him away.

"Herbert!" I screamed again for my partner, who still hadn't made any sound from his place in the living room upstairs. "Herbert, please!"

"Shut up and enjoy it, why doncha?"

I kept screaming, and they turned to cries, for I was unable to fight anymore. He was so much stronger than I was, and I just couldn't do it any longer. I readied myself for what would be the worst day of my life, and possibly the last.

There was a flash of light from the stairs, a flash like the one your watch makes when it catches the sun. A flash that Quentin didn't see due to his back being to the door. I opened my eyes to find a disheveled Herbert standing over us. I hadn't even heard him descend the stairs. He had the shovel in his hand and the look on his face was one of pure, animalistic rage. With one swing, he knocked his father off of me. Quentin lay on the other side of the room, dazed and groaning. I leapt up and rushed to Herbert, throwing my arms around him and sobbing. "Oh, Herbert, Herbert….." He hugged me tightly for a few moments before releasing me and putting himself between me and his father, who was back on his feet.

"You worthless little shit," Quentin wiped the blood from his face. "Why do you even bother with her, anyway? That baby's gonna kill her just like you killed your mother."

"Shut up!" I screamed.

"You gonna do something about it, ya dumb broad?" Quentin shouted at me. "Huh?"

"Why don't you come over here and I'll tell you," I spat.

"Oh, yeah?" He lunged at us, just as I'd hoped - I knew Herbert would take him out, and he did, swinging the shovel around us and knocking his father over one more time. This time, he pinned him down and held the shovel steady at his neck. I was right behind him.

"Wait! Herbert!" Quentin's eyes went wide. "I'm your father, for chrissakes!"

Herbert shook so violently I don't know how he was able to remain steady. He stared his father down, hatred and fear roaring past his eyes so clearly. I grabbed his arm.

"Do it," I murmured, before I knew what I was saying. "Do it now." White-hot hatred was now drowning out my fear - pure, untapped rage. I didn't know what was happening to me, and I was too delirious to care.

"No. Herbert, please. C'mon, man, don't- don't do this. You don't have to-"

"You're a monster," Herbert shook his head.

Quentin's laugh turned into a bloody cough. "Yeah, well, you're the one who killed your mother, so what does that make us?"

"Nothing. You're nothing to me. And you'll never hurt me again."

His father's eyes went wide and, in one swift movement, Herbert slammed the shovel into his head so hard, the sound made it excruciatingly clear that no soul could survive such a blow. Indeed, Quentin never moved again.

The shovel clattered to the ground; the missing piece of Quentin's skull stuck to it, staining the broad, steel blade and running down the sides. Herbert backed away and went to his knees, his face still white as a sheet. Collapsing next to him, I said nothing and did nothing, waiting for Herbert to come back to earth. Eventually, I slid a hand into his for comfort, knowing how he was suffering. It seemed to get his attention a little, and he looked up at me. His face was one of shock and fear; he was still shaking, and as his eyes met mine, they began to fill with tears. He fought against them valiantly, but reached out for me nonetheless.

"Come, now…" I slid my arms around him and held him tight. "It's alright, doc. I'm right here." He crumpled into my arms, unable to withstand it any longer, having buried his face in my neck. Silent sobs wracked his body with everything they had. I cried to see him in so much pain. But I knew then that this part of it was finally over for him. When I kissed his cheek, he sat up and took my face in his hands. It was the first time I'd really seen him cry, even including the night I'd run off (for I'd only come in, once he was done, to see the aftermath). He looked me over, his voice shaking when he finally spoke.

"You okay?"

I nodded. "I'm fine, I'm fine!" I told him. He nodded, too, out of relief. "Herbert…" His red eyes met mine. "I love you." Herbert's whole face crumpled, and he collapsed into my lap again. We sat there in each other's arms on that basement floor for a long time.

xxxxxxxxxx

MUSIC:

This chapter was named after the song by the Dresden Dolls, which is about the internal struggle one faces when one of their parents is just so horrendous. Not only do the lyrics fit, but so does the feel of the music. "When I let him in, I feel the stitches getting sicker; I try to wash him out, but like they say, the blood is thicker…. I see my mother in my face, but only when I travel. I run as fast as I can run but Jack comes tumbling after….. I'm halfway home now, half hoping for a showdown, 'cos I'm not big enough to house this crowd. It might destroy me, but I'd sacrifice my body if it meant I'd get the Jack part out!"

"Mercy Street" by Peter Gabriel is another song about a child longing for a connection with a parent that inspired me here. It's a gorgeous piece. The lyrics are so beautiful: "There, in the midst of it, so alive and alone, words support like bone. Dreaming of Mercy Street, where you're inside out, dreaming of mercy… in your daddy's arms again, dreaming of Mercy Street. I swear they moved that sign. Dreaming of mercy, in your daddy's arms."


	24. Braving It Alone

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 24: Braving It Alone

I stood in the doorway of Herbert's bedroom, watching him sleep. It took me awhile to get him upstairs; I had to support him most of the way, and then swore on my mother's grave that I would take care of things downstairs. And once I got him into bed, it took him awhile to calm down enough to sleep. He let out a whimper, twisting in his sheets in what little ashen light filtered in from the nearly-set sun. My heart was still breaking.

What was I going to do? There wasn't much I could do, without his help. At least, I couldn't move the body on my own. I collapsed on the basement floor, leaning against the far wall, staring down the still body of Herbert's father. The concave head wound his son had given him was leaking brain matter and blood onto my basement floor. Ugh. More bleach to be bought. My mind frantically leafed through all the possibilities. What was going to happen when Quentin didn't call in to his parole officer the next day? We had at least that long to figure it out. We? No. _I._ _I_ had until five. _Herbert need not worry about this, _I thought to myself, trying to shake the sorrow from my weary mind. That poor boy had been through enough, and now it was my turn. It was my time to fully make good on that promise. Like the proverbial lightbulb going off, I knew exactly what it was I had to do.

I leapt to my feet and was at the work bench in seconds. Throwing open Herbert's journal, I rifled through to find the notes we'd taken when we made Tina. I wasn't entirely sure what I expected to find there, as I was not only in attendance for her creation but was also the one who administered the reagent, but I wanted to refresh my mind. I scanned Herbert's notes. _"Woman seems to be approximately one hundred eighty pounds. I feel fifteen cc's should be sufficient. Imogen will be administering." _Picking up the reagent vial we'd labeled with 'TINA,' I glanced over at Quentin. He was a much larger person than Tina had been, and with her, we had her info. Here, with Quentin, I had no idea how much he weighed; then again, how hard could it be? I mean, I didn't want to bring him back and have a Tina all over again, but…...

I shook my head to clear it of the Catch-22 internalization. _Ugh, just do it, Phillips,_ I thought to myself. "Okay." I sighed. Clicking on Herbert's recorder, I picked up the journal and a pen and went to crouch over Quentin. I began to write and dictate. "Body is that of Quentin West. Male, ex-con, mid-sixties. Death caused by blow to the head and was not forty-five minutes ago. It's the soonest I could have done this, given. Body seems to be approximately two hundred fifty pounds; approximately five-foot-ten. I will be administering twenty cc's." I was about to put the book and pen back on the table when I paused, then continued, writing the last part without dictation. _"Herbert, I'm sorry."_

It was then I put the writing down and readied a syringe. Quentin already had the back of his neck exposed, and I hesitated for a moment when I noticed my hand was shaking. I realized it was the first time doing this without Herbert. I'd reanimated a body myself on many occasions, but he was always by my side to guide me and support me, and now I was on my own. "Oh, Herbert," I sighed. "I wish you were here." Taking a deep breath, I plunged the needle into Quentin's spine and injected the reagent. "Injecting twenty cc's now."

I checked my watch and tossed the now-capped syringe aside, grabbing the journal and pen, ready to write down reanimation time. "It is seven-nineteen and twenty-three seconds in the evening on May twenty-fifth. Injection was at fifteen seconds. Awaiting reanimation." Shaking even harder, I waited and watched. The silence in that basement was deafening. I could hear my heart pounding through my ears, the roaring of my blood making me crazy. He wasn't moving. I checked my watch again. "Seven-nineteen and forty seconds. Still no movement from the deceased." It was another few moments when all of a sudden, Quentin West began to twitch. Finally!

"Seven-twenty on the dot, we have movement! Mister West? Mister West."

Unearthly groaning came from him as he hoisted himself into a sitting position. His eyes were fully white, and his skin was ashen. Quentin gave a look of disapproval and buried his face in his hands. Dark, thick blood oozed down the side of his head and fell to the basement floor.

"Mister West?" My voice was weak. It shook in anxiety.

Quentin's head popped up. I wasn't sure if he was reacting to his name or my voice. His white eyes met mine and he looked at me inquisitively. "Whooo yoou?" He spoke slowly, his voice unnatural and lower than it had been in life.

"You don't remember me? I'm-" I stopped short in sudden realization. "Oh, my God. Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me." My jaw dropped and I came around the table a little bit, deciding to test the waters a little further. "What's your name?"

"I…. um…. Quuuentin."

"Mm." I nodded. I was on edge. I knew that, at any minute, he could jump for me, flip his shit, explode, or all three.

"Wwhat gooo oon?"

"Well, um…. What do you remember?"

It was like talking to a drunkard. He swayed in place a moment, trying to regain focus. Shaking his head to clear the fog, he furrowed his brow in thought. "Rrrremember….. Herbert. Remember lady." He looked up at me, remembering further. "Yooouu," he pointed at me. "You have baby. There." Quentin pointed again, this time at my abdomen.

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm pregnant."

"Herbert daddy?" When I nodded again in response, he grinned a crooked grin of what I could only assume to be pride. "Me grampa," he pointed to himself, and I tried to smile. "What name?"

"Um….." I blinked hard at the random question. "We don't have one yet. Not even sure if it's a boy or a girl."

He was shaking his head halfway through my answer. "No, no. You. You name."

"Oh," I found I couldn't help but chuckle a little. "_My_ name. I'm Imogen."

"Imm-ooh-gennn." Quentin tried on the name. He stared at me for a while, like a child waiting for you to do a trick. "Imogen love Herbert."

What in the hell was going on? This is what one gets for killing and reanimating their lover's violent and abusive father. Now he's Dear Fucking Abby meets George Romero. Great. "Yes," I murmured.

Quentin seemed content at all of this and ambled to his feet. I jumped a bit, clutching at the side of the workbench and righting myself before Quentin could have seen me. I also managed to grab the green journal and slide the little recorder into my jeans pocket before he had a chance to notice.

He stumbled up the stairs and into the living room, glancing about. "Where Herbert?"

"He's asleep," I said quietly. "He, um….. he was very tired after you came to visit and wanted to rest for awhile."

The man made a sound of acceptance then, and, to my initial surprise, he made his way straight for the fridge. My heart leapt in disappointment - I'd just done some shopping before we'd left for my family's in Innsmouth - but I bit my tongue. I'd rather have bought more food later than get in another fight with that man.

"Herbert." Quentin dropped an armful of food down on the table and began to snack. He looked up at me expectantly. "Want see Herbert." Despite his seemingly new amicable nature, I wasn't one to be told twice. Yet I absolutely hated waking him - especially for this. Still, I wasn't about to antagonize Quentin. Herbert's father kept eating as I made my way down the hall. It was at this point I went ahead and clicked off the recorder in my pocket.

I slipped into Herbert's darkened room quietly, shutting the door behind me and locking it. Herbert was still asleep, the sheets wrapped snugly around him. His hair was a mess, and, in this light, I could still see the pain etched across his face. It was as if he'd aged ten years in one night. I took a seat on the bed next to him, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Hey. Doc. Wake up, now. C'mon. Herbert," I murmured, and he began to stir.

"Mmm…. what-" Herbert coughed and rolled over onto his back, rubbing his eyes. When he opened them again, they danced about the room for a split second before finding me. His face softened, and he brought his hand to rest on my arm.

"Hi, doc," I smiled.

"Hi."

"How are you feeling? Hmm?" I ran a hand through his hair, clearing it from his face.

"Slightly more myself."

"Ah," I chuckled. "Progress. Good."

Herbert's face suddenly changed, as if he were remembering things. He started. "My father-"

"Whoa, whoa, hey-" I rested a hand on his chest as he tried to sit up. "Herbert, sweetheart, it's okay. Lie down. C'mon, now."

"Well, what- I mean, where is he?"

"You remember knocking him out?"

"Well, of course I remember knocking him out. I remember falling asleep. Where is he? Is he still in the basement?"

The slight pause I gave him before speaking was enough. "Well. Um. About that."

"Imogen," he chided. "You know that in your present condition you are strongly urged not to lift or move anything by yourself."

"That's just the thing." I gulped, taking in a breath and readying myself for my confession. "Ididn't."

Herbert was so confused. He gaped at me for a moment or two before the horrible realization crept over him and his face fell in horror. "Oh, for the love of God. You didn't, did you?" When I didn't answer him at first, instead dropping my gaze to my lap in guilt, he groaned.

"I'm sorry!" I was getting worked up, but managed to keep my voice down. "I didn't know what to do. I tried to think of what _you_ would have done if it had been you."

"I'd have burned the son of a bitch! Never re-animate without me present!" He was sitting up in bed now, his feet swinging over the side so he could sit next to me. He grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and threw them on. "Dammit, Phillips, you know this!"

"Please, I-"

"Where is he?"

"In the kitchen."

"Shit!"

"Herbert, I'm sorry! How many times do I have to say it? Please! He asked for you, he was insistent, and I just- Jesus, I'm sorry!" The tears that welled over from my eyes were instantaneous. My shoulders slumped as I buried my face in my hands. _Fucking hormones, I swear to God….. _I silently cursed myself. "Please, Herbert. I'm trying. You know I am."

It was silent for a few moments, outside of my quiet cries. After a while, though, there was a gentle hand on my wrist. Herbert took my hands away from my face. The look on his had melted into one of concern and defeat. "I am, too, Imogen." Cautiously scooting closer, he put an arm around me and put his head on my shoulder, and I hugged him to me. His was an awkward hug of a man who sincerely was trying.

"I know, baby," I sniffled, giving his forehead a kiss. "I know."

After a few moments of comfort, Herbert sat back up. He sighed, composing himself. "Alright. So. What is it you did, exactly? How much did you give him?"

"Well," I cleared my throat and dried my eyes. "I went over your notes from when we reanimated Tina, and I even used the same bottle - don't worry, we've got about another ten cc's left there, but we have to work at getting more of this same exact formula-"

"Not a problem," Herbert was on it, and I continued.

"Excellent. Anyway, I gave him twenty cc's; I had to kindof eyeball his height and weight, but it looks like I did alright because he's up walking and talking even better than what Tina had done. I'm just scared he's gonna have another conniption fit like she did, too."

"Huh," Herbert scoffed. "Yes. I share this fear."

"I recorded everything - in the journal, and also on this." From my jeans pocket I took the little recorder and handed it to him. "I started it as I began my reagent work and stopped it as I was on my way in here to get you." Herbert turned the little recorder over in his hands, eventually studying my face more than he did the little device. He studied my face intently, and with a look of wonder. "So…." I shrugged conclusively. "It's up to you now, doc. Tell me how I can fix this."

Herbert mulled things over for a moment, noticing his dark green notebook in my hands. "You say you wrote it all down, too?" He indicated the little book.

"Mm-hmm," I nodded.

"Let's take a look."

I found the last entry and handed it to him, quietly and briefly going over it with him. He asked a few questions, which I expanded upon. When it was over, he nodded thoughtfully. After a few moments like this, I couldn't take it. "I hope I took down enough information." I was still uneasy and bruised from upsetting him.

It was then that he smiled at me softly. "You've made me proud, Imogen."

My heart skipped a few beats. "What?"

"You heard me," he gave me one of those classic Herbert West smirks. But everything he'd said was genuine. "I know I can be….." His eyes fell to his lap and it was his turn to shrug. "I can be overbearing sometimes. I've heard what people have said about me. And- and it's mostly true- I am a bit crazy-"

"It's what I like _most_ about you," I smiled at him, and he returned it.

"Well. I know it's not always pleasant. I know I have my moments. And I try not to be ungrateful. Because I'm not. I suppose you could say I couldn't have done any of this without your assistance…. or your support." His eyes met mine again. I took his hand in mine.

"You don't seem scared anymore."

"Oh, I'm not scared," he shook his head. "I'm terrified. But….. the way I figure, the sooner we deal with it…" He studied my hand in his, turning it over and intertwining his fingers with mine before bringing his eyes back to meet mine. "The sooner I can keep going."

I knew how to read between the lines. "Herbert-"

He cut me off then with a kiss, one that lasted for a few moments. When he pulled away, he smiled at me reassuringly, then reached up to kiss my forehead. I slipped into his arms, leaning my head against his chest.


	25. Hostage

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 25: Hostage

There was a loud thump from the hallway, like someone had dropped a box full of textbooks. The two of us jumped a little, and the hug was broken. We waited for a few moments, and it happened again, louder this time. I gave a little yelp, clutching at Herbert. There was a series of smaller thuds from the hall, followed by two more bangs, even louder than any of the others. And they continued - they kept going for what seemed like an eternity, though it couldn't have been more than a few moments. There was another sound then. A…. growling? An unearthly, guttural snarl, coming from the very depths of its creator and emanating the air surrounding it. My eyes went wide as the sound began to fill the house. "Oh, Jesus, Herbert-" I grabbed at him, pulling him towards me as my heart slammed to a halt. "It's happening."

My partner got to his feet, making his way for the doorway. "Herbert, no- Oh, _please_ don't," I begged, leaping up after him and clutching at him, my heart jumping to my throat. I noticed Herbert had a slight limp setting in. "Please. Stay." Herbert turned and smiled at me, putting his hands on my arms. The sounds of the thuds and the growling rang in my ears.

"It's alright, Imogen. It's alright. We can do this. Do you trust me?"

"Wha- well-"

"Do you trust me?" He asked again, more severely this time.

"Yes! Of course I do."

"Then you know I won't let anything happen." He smiled at me comfortingly. The snarls and slams grew to near-maximum; I could tell Quentin was coming apart and so was our house. Glass broke and wood splintered, and my heart continued to slam. Herbert reached for the door. And all of a sudden, there was the loudest slam of all, one that reverberated all throughout the house, a slam I could only have concluded was the front door being thrown open. It was immediately followed by an ear-piercing half-scream and half-howl; I screamed. Then all was silent as we listened to the snarling disappear into the distance. Herbert's hand was still hovering over the doorknob to the bedroom, waiting; he had his arm out to protect me and I clutched at it fearfully. For a long time I couldn't hear anything outside of our own heavy, terrified breathing. I swallowed hard.

"Father?" Herbert's voice broke the silence first, and he was answered with more silence. He opened the door slowly, and we peered out into the hallway and down into the living room. We got a full view of just how damaged our house was as we slowly emerged. Books and papers and food and jackets were strewn about, and the front door was wide open. Outside, we could hear the sounds of a commotion - concerned voices overlapping the continuously fading sound of those awful snarls. Herbert and I bolted outside to see Quentin in the distance, galloping down Parsonage Street and into town. Our neighbors were all out and chattering away in worried voices about the sick man running wild about Arkham. They started looking in our direction, some of them clearly having witnessed Quentin's departure from our house.

"Herbert," I spoke quietly, taking my partner by the arm. "Go downstairs and clean everything up." Our eyes met and I gave him a knowing glance. "I'll meet the neighbors. Clearly, this is going to escalade, and we now have a chance to dampen the situation."

"If you're going to make up a story, maybe we should cover our bases further and tell the police. There's no way they're not hearing of this now."

"You're right. Will you call them? Tell them your father came to visit us; tell them the truth about how awful he is, and how much he scares us. Tell them he flipped out on us and tried to kill us. Do it while you're cleaning the basement." Herbert didn't have to be told twice - despite the limp, he was downstairs in seconds.

"Imogen? You guys okay?"

I turned to find our neighbor from across the street slowly approaching the house with his wife. The two of them had moved in the year previously, their kids having already grown and moved off to other colleges with their own new lives.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I suppose. I dunno. He banged us up pretty bad."

"I can see that: your face, my God!"

"Oh, this? Oh, no, that - ugh, actually, that was from a whole other incident. As if it's bad enough this happens today - didn't I tell you?" I shook my head incredulously.

"Oh, no," the wife shook her head.

"Yeah, it was pretty rough." I came down the porch steps to meet them in the yard. "You know how Herbert and I went to visit my family this past weekend? Well, Herbert and I were car-jacked while there."

"Oh, for the love of God," the husband shook his head. It was at this point a couple other neighbors started to show up. The husband acknowledged them and continued. "And now, this- who _was_ that guy, anyway?"

"That," I sighed. "Was Herbert's father."

"What?" The wife's eyes went wide.

"Yep."

"What happened?"

"I- I don't know! I mean, for one, he's _awful._ He's been in prison for years. Was a horrible father. Why Herbert was the first person he wanted to see after being out, I really have no idea. But he came by anyway, without any sort of notification, and then out of nowhere he just started acting all weird. And he just went nuts! Jesus, I was so scared, he-"

There was a presence next to me, a hand on my elbow. It was Herbert. "The cops are on their way," he murmured to me.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

"Herbert, you're limping!" One of our neighbors pointed, concern filling their voice.

"Oh, that. Yes." Herbert glanced down at his leg, shifting next to me. He made a face of discomfort as I slid an arm around his waist to help support him. "Well. My father, he…" Herbert glanced to me. "He attacked Imogen. So."

The neighbor made an "aaaww" of support as I leaned into Herbert, hugging him to me tightly. We weren't lying to our neighbors - we were telling them the full story, and only omitting one small element. The tears that leapt to my eyes then were real - they were tears of fear, pain, confusion, and love.

It was mere moments after that in which we could hear sirens, and suddenly, there were two cop cars and an ambulance parked in front of our house. After simultaneously getting checked out by EMS and reiterating the entire story in full detail to the cops (save for the part where Herbert killed his father and I brought him back to life), we were ready to go down to the station to make a full statement when there was a crackling over the police radios. Two of the cops were taking statements from our neighbors, and the other two were with me and Herbert; one of our cops went back to her car to answer the call.

Her partner was fishing for details when she gave a shout from her car. "Hey! Campbell!" She came running back up the drive for us. "That was Whateley. Says there's an incident out at Independence Square involving a man matching the father's description."

"Oh, my God!" I shook, but it was Herbert's grip on my arm that was the tightest.

"Come on," Campbell quickly led us away to their car. We climbed in back and were rushed away. The female cop got on the radio with Whateley while Campbell tried to get more info from us.

"What did he say to you, exactly?"

"I- I'm not really even sure, I mean-"

"When he started acting strangely. There must have been something that was said or done that triggered his rage."

"Look, I don't know what you want me to say, I really don't! He looked like he was sick. Like he was coming down with- with the flu, or something. He freaked out and ran. It really is as simple as that, I- why is this important now? I mean, Jesus, there's something going on here - something really really messed up. I just- I can't-"

"Imogen…." I didn't realize I was hanging off the grate in front of me until Herbert gently pulled me back to sit with him. "Officers, I don't understand what you need from us at this point; what I mean to say, is: why are we coming with you to Independence Square?"

"You two may be able to talk him down."

"You asked about what we may have said or done to trigger him; why would you think we'd be able to- wait, talk him down? Talk him down from what?!"

The female cop answered my partner without looking back. "Your father has taken a hostage, Doctor West."


	26. Negotiations

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 26: Negotiations

Independence Square was empty and silent as the grave, yet there was an electricity in the air that couldn't be matched. It made my heart flutter and twist in a way that I hated. Since we were working in the dark, the courtyard had to be lit up by the lights from the cop cars. The light breeze that hit us felt wonderful, but it did little to calm my already shredded nerves. It lifted to us a sound from across the courtyard; the shout of a young woman. I couldn't understand what she had said, but, from the tone of it, it wasn't happy. It wasn't a moment or so before she appeared. The hunched figure of a now completely disheveled Quentin came into view with her; he had her by the hair and, even though she was still on her feet, he was dragging her across the courtyard, howling and snarling and making the most God-awful and inhuman noises I'd ever heard. He looked so much worse, though, like he was beginning to come apart…

The young woman began to shriek again, and as my eyes began to focus, I realized I knew her. Jesus, I knew her! She'd sat next to me through two semesters of Gross Anatomy, helped me get my notes together. Was even a part of the study group that met once a week, including the night I'd found out I was pregnant. Her name was Hannah, and she was a sweet girl. "Oh, God…." I began to feel sick.

"Miss Phillips? You alright?" Officer Campbell grabbed my arm.

"Hannah. Her name is Hannah Carson," I indicated Quentin's hostage.

He glanced at her and then back at me. "You know her?"

"We were study partners in Gross Anatomy this past year."

Campbell got over the bullhorn as we hunkered down behind his car. His was one of about seven, all parked around the edges of the park. Quentin's parole officer, a frazzled and worn-down man in his late forties, had arrived, as well. "Hannah?"

My old study partner perked up at the sound of her name. "Wha- who is that?" Quentin jerked at her and she shrieked again. I grabbed the bullhorn from Campbell. "Hannah, it- it's me, it's Imogen. Imogen Phillips. We had anatomy together."

"Imogen?" Her face lit up in recognition. "Who the fuck is this guy?! Get him off- OW!" Quentin let out a roar, pulling the woman towards him suddenly.

"Don't worry!" I called out. "He's gonna let you go."

"Please, hurry! I'm scared!"

"I know, Hannah, I know, they're doing everything they can-"

Campbell motioned for the bullhorn back, and I obliged. "Mister West," he called out to Quentin. "You're gonna have to let the young lady go now."

Quentin's face was contorting, changing; horrified and fascinated, I watched it morph in front of me like a chameleon. It was losing its human characteristics, and I wasn't sure how much longer our "flu" theory could hold up, although I surely felt we were convincing enough in our feigned ignorance as to his condition. There were things that happened in this town that people came to accept as being normal: alien abduction, fish people, evil gods from inner space. What was one more urban legend? Quentin gave another roaring howl, throwing Hannah on the ground; she screamed, curling up and covering her head with her arms. Quentin was rearing back to do his worst…

"Father?"

Quentin stopped and looked up. To my absolute horror, Herbert was up and around the car, slowly making his way across they courtyard.

"Herbert, what are you doing?!" I shrieked, leaping up for him.

"No, Imogen, don't!" Campbell grabbed me and dragged me back down. I fought him, tears stinging my eyes.

"Stop! Get off me! He can't, he can't, he'll kill him! _Herbert!_"

"It's alright, Imogen," my partner called back to me. "Everything is going to be just fine."

Quentin had released Hannah, finally, and was now completely transfixed on his son. He didn't notice the cop off to the side motion for my old classmate, and she went scuttling off to safety without so much as a glance back.

"You've got to come with these men, Father. They will take care of you."

His father made a sound then, as if he were trying to speak, but it all came out in a garbled growl, unintelligible and bizarre. He looked confused, as if he didn't know what to believe, when he finally made a face, reaching up for the gaping wound on the side of his head. It was then I realized why he seemed to be falling apart mentally: his brain had finally leaked completely out from the wound inflicted by his son. He pulled his hand away, studying the mass of crimson blood that stained his fingertips. I could tell he was struggling to remember.

"Will you come with me?" Herbert's voice shook, yet he remained strong and didn't back down. My fear for his safety mixed with pride then. Herbert held out his hand - they were about five or so yards apart at that point - and Quentin glanced at it, then up to the cops, his eyes darting around the courtyard until they finally landed… on me. His eyes went wide. He looked back to Herbert, then to me, and back to his son again. My stomach began to drop out from beneath me as I watched Quentin's panic rise. _Oh, God, no._

The following events occurred in mere seconds; yet, as everyone knows, when severe moments of trauma occur, time slows down to an excruciating crawl and your limbs turn to lead. At that moment, Quentin, remembering enough, let out the worst sound he'd made yet. It was a combination of every horrid sound you remember from your worst nightmares, louder than anything I'd ever heard. But that wasn't what unleashed the white-hot terror through my veins. It was seeing Quentin hunker down and fly straight for my partner that made my blood freeze. The sounds Quentin was making were matched only by the sounds of screaming, and it took me a second to realize the screams were my own. All of a sudden, _BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM - _ the cops opened fire and Quentin collapsed in a bloody, messy heap at Herbert's feet. My partner hadn't been shot, although he stumbled backwards a foot or two in shock as I raced to him. In the moments leading up to my reaching him, I watched his chest heave in an attempt to catch his breath. I reached for him, and as his eyes met mine I watched them glaze over. And then he collapsed, unconscious, into the cool grass of the courtyard.

"Herbert?" I sobbed. "Oh, Herbert, no….." Falling to the ground next to him, I pulled him up into my arms and cried.

xxxxxxxxxx

He was still out as EMS whisked us away moments later; I sat in the back of the ambulance with him and held his hand anyway. The EMT told me he was stable for the time being, but given the information I'd passed along (this being the third time in three days - second in one - he'd been rendered unconscious), they were fearful he'd sustained brain injury. I was so scared. I cried the whole way to the hospital, my head buried in my partner's chest.

When we arrived, Herbert was rushed into get some CAT scans done to check for any brain damage. I, in the meantime, was taken away to another section of the hospital to get myself checked up. I had completely forgotten I'd even been injured, I was so consumed in concern for my partner. "Wait," I stopped the doctor as a throng of medical personnel came to rush Herbert away. "What if he wakes up? Please, I wanna be there when he wakes up."

"Don't worry," the doctor reassured me. "I'm sure we'll be done with you much sooner than they will with him. I'll take you down there after we finish with you, I promise. Now, come on."

"Miss Phillips?"

I turned at the sound of my name. Officer Campbell was approaching me and the doctor, and we stopped so he could catch up. "Yes?"

"Have you recently misplaced a car, by chance?"

Despite the insanity, I didn't miss a beat. "Oh, my God, you found it!"

"Yes, well, what was left of it. It was a few miles out from Innsmouth, burnt out to a crispy shell. What happened? Was it stolen?"

"Officer, I'm sorry - can we finish this down the hall? I really need to get her checked out."

"Of course. Lead the way, doc." We started walking, and I continued.

"Um- yeah, yeah, Herbert and I were mugged the other night. We were in Innsmouth, visiting my family."

"Can you tell me exactly what happened?"

"Well, I wanted to show Herbert the area, because it's where I grew up; I was showing him some of my old stomping grounds and we were stopped at a light when these people showed up….."

"How many?"

"Three. Two men and a woman."

"Could you describe them?"

"Um….. yeah, maybe." I shook my head. "Look, do I have to do this now? I'm sorry, I just- I'm really worried about Herbert and our baby and I wanna make sure we're okay."

"Of course, Miss Phillips. Here's my card; call me when you're home and we can set up a date when the two of you can come in and make a statement."

"Thank you, I will. I appreciate you finding my car. But- well, how did you know it was mine?"

"License plates?" Officer Campbell shrugged.

"Aah. Yes. Well." I nodded in understanding. "Thanks again."

I was way too fidgety, and the poor doctor had a tough time examining me. I tried my best to remain calm, but I was just so upset. One of the last things the doctor did was preform a sonogram to check on the baby; one more fear of mine being faced. But there was no need for fear - "You're baby's going to be fine," the doctor smiled at me. Tears welled over then, and I nodded a thank you. He smiled at me kindly, and glanced back up at the screen. I watched my baby float around, and seeing the little thing calm and collected steadied my nerves. "Do you want to know what it is?"

My eyes darted to the doctor. He was grinning. "What?" I stammered.

"Your baby. I can tell you the gender."

"You can tell?" I asked, and he nodded, still grinning. A smile crept over my face. "Okay. What… what is it?"

"You're having a little girl."

The doctor gave me some Ibuprofen for the pain and swelling, and then offered to take me up to see Herbert, which I was beyond ready for. He had just finished up the CAT scans, and was being wheeled into the recovery room. It had been only thirty short minutes since he blacked out, and he had stayed out since, but it was mere moments - a handful of century-long minutes as I paced the floor - before I heard Herbert moan. I'd been about to ask the nurse that was with us when he'd wake up. My heart practically leapt clean out of my throat as I rushed to him, sitting on the bed next to him and taking up his hand.

"Herbert?" I leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Can you hear me?"

"Nnnnnhhhh…." He was still half-dazed and somewhat confused as he tried to speak.

"Ssh, it's alright…." I soothed, brushing his hair from his forehead. "Take it easy. I'm right here."

His eyes began to de-fog then, and I watched them focus on the ceiling tiles above us as he glanced about the room for something familiar. Those dark eyes of his finally found mine, and I watched them tremble for a moment as he squeezed my hand. "Imogen?" His voice was feeble.

"Yeah, baby, I'm here," I smiled comfortingly.

His whole face fleshed out into a weak smile of relief. "Hello."

"Hi, doc." I grinned, still unable to help the tears that began to flow. "How you feeling?" From across the bed, the nurse overseeing Herbert smiled.

"Mmm…." Herbert tried to swallow, and let out a cough. "Seen better days."

I chuckled. "Indeed, you have."

"Welcome back, Doctor West." The nurse that had been staying with us stood at the foot of his bed, smiling. "You and your lady are real troopers. Both of y'all have taken quite a beating this weekend. You're lookin' better already."

"Thank you," my partner rasped, and coughed again.

"Here," I picked up the water the nurse had left for us, propping up his head and helping him drink. I thanked the nurse, as well, and she told us Herbert's CAT scan results would be available within the next half hour.

"In the meantime, Miss Phillips, I'm gonna go ahead and wheel Doctor West into his own room. We got a bed set up for you there, too."

"How long do you think we'll be staying?"

"Oh, that all depends, really. As for you, your doctor gave you the green light to go home first thing tomorrow, but as far as you go-" she indicated Herbert. "It'd all depend upon how your CAT scans come back."

Herbert nodded weakly. The slight internal squirm I saw in his eyes spoke volumes to me. I took up his hand in mine again. "Don't worry, Herbert," I stared at him knowingly. "Tomorrow, after I'm released, I'll go home and take care of everything."

My partner had that oh-so-slight smile on his face. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Always."

It was then the proverbial lightbulb went off over his head. He turned to the nurse. "My father?"

She became somber. "His remains are being taken in for autopsy as we speak."

I could feel the panic begin to rise inside my chest. "What?"

"Mm-hmm. He was very sick. They're curious as to exactly what it was he had come down with. But don't worry, Doctor Phillips. I've heard nothing but good things about Doctor Hill, and I'm sure he'll take very good care of him."


	27. Madness

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 27: Madness

"He'll find us out, Imogen! I know it, he'll find out exactly what's going on and he'll take it-" Herbert was damn near out of his tree once the nurse had gone to retrieve the CAT scan results. It was all I could do to keep him from flying out of bed in a rush.

"Hey, hey!" It took some strength I wasn't sure I had then to keep him down. "Dammit, West, chill out!" He fell silent then, staring at me, and I continued. "Look. I don't know what you want me to do about this. Now, clearly, I fucked up. But I'm going to take care of this. I don't want you going and having another black out on me again, do you understand?" Herbert began to protest but I stopped him. "Do. You. Understand?!"

"Ugh. Fine!"

"I know I've shaken your trust in me. But I need you to keep holding on, okay? I _will_ make this right."

He looked me over for mere moments, finally sighing. "I know. And I'm sorry."

"Hey, kids." The neurosurgeon in charge of Herbert's CAT scans came in then, smiling, and I turned to meet Herbert's gaze. I glared at him - _Stay calm,_ I mouthed, then turned back to the doctor with a smile.

"Hey. You got news?"

"I do," he nodded, smiling. "And it's good."

"Yeah?" I grinned. "Well, what is it?"

"Herbert, you're gonna be fine."

"Am I?"

"Mm-hmm. Your scans came back completely normal - no damage whatsoever. And you," he turned to me. "That goes for you, too. I realize we didn't request any scans done on you, but you and your baby are in the clear, as well. I'm requesting that the two of you stay the night for observation regardless, but you should be clear to go home tomorrow."

As much as I believed the pep-talk I'd given Herbert the day before, my stomach felt like lead when we went to be released from the hospital, and I think his did, too, judging by the look on his face. After calling Dan for a ride, we finished our paperwork in little time, and the receptionist stopped us as we were about to leave.

"Oh, Doctor West?" She called for my partner, and when he turned to face her, she continued. "Doctor Hill would like to see you regarding your father. He's down the hall." She indicated the hall to our left, and Herbert grabbed my arm.

"It's alright, doc," I took his hand. "Come on." I thanked the receptionist and we were on our way. The hall went on for awhile before we hit a dead end, and we hadn't yet seen any sort of M.E.'s office. "Where do you suppose he is?" I asked herbert, looking up and down the hall.

"Doctor West."

Herbert turned sharply at the sound of his name. It was Dr. Hill, as stoic as ever, and practically unreadable. Herbert cleared his throat. "Dr. Hill. Good afternoon." I braced myself against my partner, steadying both him and myself.

"Doctor Phillips." Dr. Hill nodded his greetings to me and my partner, and turned to address him. "I've completed my findings on your father. I'm sorry to report that it seems he suffered from a rare strain of rabies. As you know, when it begins to effect a human, it is too late for a medical intervention."

"Yes, I'm quite aware-" Herbert paused, on edge. "Rabies?"

"Indeed. It seems there must have been some way it had gotten into the prison when he was serving time. He did, as you may know, use a various amount of drugs, and managed to have them smuggled into the prison."

"This does not surprise me." Herbert mulled things over for a moment. "His parole officer told you this?"

"He did." He continued when Herbert made a sound of understanding. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Hmph." Herbert made a noise then, and I nudged him, which made him change his tune. "Thank you, Doctor Hill. Well. We must be off."

"Yes, it's best the two of you get your rest. Best of luck to you both."

We had nodded our thank you's and goodbyes and were turning down the hall when Dr. Hill's voice got our attention once again. "Oh, and Doctor West?"

"Yes." Herbert was uncomfortable; I was, too. I wanted out.

"I nearly forgot," Dr. Hill smirked, reaching into his coat pocket. "It seems as if you dropped this." He handed my partner his dark green journal, the same one Herbert used every day. The one with the re-agent formulas written in it.

The one we'd stored safely in the basement the day before.

I could feel the pit of my stomach drop out from beneath me in fear as Herbert slowly took the journal from him and leafed through it. It seemed as if everything were still in its rightful place, and when he looked back up to Dr. Hill, his eyes narrowed. I could clearly see the hurricane brewing behind them as my heart began to pound. "Were did you get this?" His voice was soft, venomous.

"Why, your father had it on him. It has your name in it and I thought I'd return it to you." The smug and condescending look on Dr. Hill's face spoke volumes.

"I left this at home. I haven't touched it since last night."

"Well." Dr. Hill could clearly not help the tiny, bastard of a smile that crept up the side of his face. "I'm sorry, Doctor West, I'm not sure what to tell you, then. That is your handwriting, is it not?" When Herbert didn't answer, Hill continued. "It seems as if you and your…." he glanced me over. "_Partner_ have been hard at work. I certainly hope it won't affect your work here at the school."

"Doctor Hill, if you ever so much as think of-" Herbert advanced slightly, and Dr. Hill cut him off as I grabbed Herbert's arm tightly, gasping.

"Oh, don't worry, Doctor West. Your secret is safe with me. For now." He smiled viciously. "You'll be hearing from me soon with a full report on your father. Good day." And with that, he turned and was gone.

Dr. Hill's farewell haunted me as I dragged my partner off and back down the hall. He stuffed his journal in his coat pocket on the way out. My skin crawled at the thought of Dr. Hill in our house, _our house!, _touching our things and walking our halls. Herbert started to shake. Ahead of us, I could see Dan leaning against his car, waiting for us, and he rose and came for us when he saw us. The words finally tumbled out of Herbert, all in a rush, and he stopped where he was, turning back to me.

"He copied them. I know he did. He copied my notes, he has everything. He's _read_ everything. And now he's going to use it against us, Imogen. We're dead! Ruined! Everything I've ever worked for is just-"

"Herbert. Herbert!" I grabbed his arm, but he jerked it away from me.

"Don't try and rationalize this with some sort of plan! There is no plan, other than one that ends with us dead!"

I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't know what to say at all, really, because I had no idea what exactly we were dealing with. Clearly, Dr. Hill had copied Herbert's notes, but how many copies did he make? And where were they? What else had he done? Had Dr. Hill recreated the re-agent serum, or did he steal some form our fridge? We had to check.

"Herbert, we need to go home and check the entire house. Make sure he didn't take anything else." He nodded curtly and I kept rambling. "Jesus, the thought of him in _our house…._"

"Keep your shit together, Phillips. C'mon, we need to go." He lead me away to Dan's car, and it was my turn to rip my arm away. We were at Dan's car then - poor Dan, who had no idea what was going on.

"You're telling _me_ to keep _my_ shit together?!" I scoffed. "Weren't you the one who just lost it?"

"Dammit, Phillips, get in the blasted car," Herbert growled, climbing into the front passenger's seat. Pouting, I crossed my arms angrily over my chest.

"Um. Hi?" Dan smiled sheepishly, and my arms fell.

"Hi, Dan." I gave him a hug. "I can't tell you how much we appreciate the ride."

"Of course! I'm just glad you guys are okay. Meg and I were so worried." We climbed into the car and Dan started it up, pulling away from the hospital. We were only a block or two away from home when Dan broke the silence. "So…. are you going to tell me what happened?"

Herbert barely moved, but his eyes met mine in the rear-view mirror. I waited for him to speak, and when he didn't, I opened my mouth to tell the story, but suddenly, Herbert spoke up. "I killed my father."

Dan's eyes nearly popped out of his head, and his jaw dropped, but before he could say anything, I piped up from back. "And I reanimated him."

"What- just- I don't, it just- _What in the hell?!_"

"Dr. Hill is framing us, too. At least, I think he is. He was the one who preformed the autopsy on Herbert's dad. He's onto our work; he found Herbert's journal. He might try something."

"Jesus, Imogen! What-" Dan was practically having an aneurism.

"All of this, and Imogen is due in two months."

Dan was silent for awhile. Finally, "I can't believe you two. You two could have died; Imogen, you could have lost your baby….. How are y'all gonna fix this?"

"Beats the hell outta me," I muttered.

"Why did you have to kill him?!" Dan asked incredulously. We were climbing out of the car and into the driveway at that point.

"He attacked us, Dan," I pleaded.

"Yeah, no shit! That's what you've told me they do when-"

Herbert was already shaking his head before finally interrupting him. "Before, Dan."

Dan stopped. "What?"

"Let's take this inside, boys," I glanced over nervously as the lights at a neighbor's went on.

"I need to see what damage Hill's done, also." Herbert was off like a bolt.

"C'mon," I grabbed at Dan's arm. "We'll explain everything in a minute, just- just bear with us for a moment, please?"

He didn't say anything, following me as I quickly ran inside. The living room seemed fine, but from the basement, I could hear Herbert give out a cry, and my heart practically stopped in my chest. I raced downstairs.

"Herbert? What is it?"

He was silent, horrified, as he stepped aside, allowing me to have full visual access to the fridge. He looked up at me, his eyes wide, gaping. Off the three dozen or so bottles of re-agent, most were broken, smashed to pieces and dripping everywhere. And there was a huge serving of them that were just gone.

"Oh, Jesus…." My heart leapt to my throat; my hand, to my mouth. I glanced to Herbert, coming down to join him. "He has them, doesn't he?"

My partner nodded silently. The look on his face was a mixture of terror, rage and anguish. Burying my face in Herbert's shoulder, I cried quietly. And he didn't yell at me. He didn't chide me or push me away. He slid his arms around me and trembled.

Eventually, Dan's voice met our ears from the living room. "Imogen? Everything alright?"

"What are we gonna say?" I whispered tearfully, wiping at the tears.

Herbert shook his head. "I don't know, Imogen. I don't know." He sighed, eying me sadly. "C'mon."

"What's going on?" Dan was concerned when he saw my tears.

"Hill's robbed us," Herbert said quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. I started crying all over again, burying my face in my hands as Herbert continued. "My reagent, it- it's gone. He destroyed most of it and took the rest."

Grabbing some tissue from the kitchen, I stood in the dark and tried to calm down as Dan and Herbert went into the living room. Herbert found a place on the sofa; Dan, right across from him. "So….. how does this connect with your father?" Dan asked. I cleaned myself up as I listened to Herbert.

"Hill preformed the autopsy," Herbert explained. "When I came home from the morgue, my father was here with Imogen. He had been paroled recently, and was as he has always been - angry, hateful, and cruel. He threatened Imogen, and then me, and when she went to protect me-"

I shook my head. "Dan, don't make him go through this again," I came over to Herbert then, collapsing on the sofa next to him and curling up against him. He put an arm around me and leaned against me, exhausted. "He hurt us, okay? What were we supposed to do?"

Dan's face was one of quiet shock. He studied us sitting together as we were, in such a way that no one had ever seen us. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "What can I do?"

I was still clutching at Herbert, my head on his shoulder, and I looked up to him again for an answer. Herbert looked at Dan. "You do believe us, don't you? About my work?"

Dan sighed, his head dropping, and he mulled things over for a minute. "You know, if it had just been you, Herbert, I- I don't know," Dan shrugged. "But Imogen, you….. I've known you my whole life. I mean, Jesus, we grew up together. I know how you tick, you-" he stopped short for a moment to catch his thoughts. "You're like another little sister to me."

"Yeah," I nodded, my face crumpling. "Me, too. I mean-" I actually laughed through the tears then. "Yeah."

"My point is, I know you wouldn't dive into something you didn't believe, or something you weren't passionate about."

"So- what are you saying? I sniffled. "I mean, what-"

"I'm in."

Herbert's eyes went wide. "I thought you didn't believe."

"I do now."

xxxxxxxxxx

Dan was now an official member of our little secret society, and I was surprised at how little Herbert protested it. Dan settled on being delegated to an outside source - one who wouldn't necessarily be a part of the work itself, but who would act as an invisible set of eyes and ears for us. It felt good to have another who would have our backs. Our friend went home shortly thereafter, and Herbert and I went downstairs to clean up the mess. We did so silently; very little was said between us as we mourned the loss of so much hard work. Herbert was throwing away the last of the broken glass in the kitchen when he took in a sharp breath. "Damn…." I turned to find him holding out his hand, studying a large cut down his palm with a grimace on his face. He was near the sink, so I grabbed some towels, soaked them in water and gently began to clean his hand. He winced, giving a slight jerk.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Thank you," his voice was quiet, too, and I nodded wordlessly in response. The wound was about as clean as it was going to get, so I pressed a dry, clean dish rag into his hand and wrapped it up. "Imogen?" I lifted my eyes to meet his. My heart was heavier than it had ever been. It broke for him, for us.

"I…." Herbert was struggling with what he was trying to say. His eyes dropped to his wounded hand, his brow furrowing in concentration. Frustration, ever so slight, was building there, too, as he continued to struggle to come up with the right words. I put a hand to his cheek for comfort. It was this that brought his eyes back up to mine, and he finally found his voice again. It was soft, barely audible. But it was the loudest thing I think he'd ever said to me.

"I love you, too."

xxxxxxxxxx

MUSIC:

Of course, this chapter was named after the song by Muse, and it is perfect... I like to think the entire song can be from Herbert's point of view: "I've finally seen the end, I'm not expecting you to care, but I have finally seen the light. I have finally realized: I need your love, I need your love! Come to me, trust in a dream, come on and rescue me. Yes, I know I can be wrong, maybe I'm too headstrong. Our love is madness..."


	28. You Have No Idea

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 28: You Have No Idea

There was a note on the front door within hours:

_Drs. West and Philips,  
__As you may have deduced at this point, I have something that belongs to you. I am willing to make out a deal with you. I have these items taken very good care of at my home and am willing to trade you - the information in the green journal is mine or I go to the police with the things I found in your home and the information contained in said journal. In six months, I go to the press with the greatest discovery of the twentieth century. In that time, you will continue the work as I see fit, and when the time comes, I will be famous. It is up to you. You have three days to decide.  
__Regards,  
__Dr. Carl Hill_

The sharp echo of my heels on the floor announced my arrival as I walked confidently the halls of my university. Lower-classmen, born and bred on the legends of our community and the potentiality I could be a part of the newest one, anxiously watched me go by. Seniors, who were once the underclassmen that quaked in knowing I really was the new legend, gasped and pointed, their eyes wide. Everything about me was out in the open then: the child in my belly, the bruises on my face. The fiercely loyal love in my heart. I'd had enough. There was a fire that burned inside me, brighter and hotter than anything I'd felt in knowing Herbert. That day, not a single crap would be taken from anyone, nor a single fuck given. Without so much as a knock, or any sort of warning, for that matter, I blew into Dr. Hill's office and shut the door hastily behind me.

He was on the phone, completely taken off guard when I just came busting in. "Ah, yes, Reggie, I'll have to call you back. Okay." He hung up and turned to me, aghast. "What is the meaning of-"

"Oh, cut the crap."

"How dare you speak to your superiors in such a fashion! After all I've taught you."

"After all you've taught me?" I pulled off my sunglasses and leaned over his desk, looking him in the eye. "Let's think back, shall we? Think back over the past twelve hours. Now, I couldn't care less what you read in that journal or found in my partner's mini-fridge. You've broken into private property, stolen _personal_ property and terrorized two students. Dr. West and myself have been frantic. And we have a proposition for you."

"I don't take bribes from murderers."

"Do you accept them from fellow scientists?"

He mulled it over. "I'm listening."

"We have complete control over the re-agent. We reserve the right to tweak the formula and use it on whomever, whenever we so choose. You are not allowed on our property at any time, for any reason. We will set up meetings between the three of us to discuss where we are in the process. Once every other week. Outside of that, the only interaction you will have with us will be with my partner, when he reports in for work at the university. If there is anything you have to tell _me_ outside of our meetings, you tell him, and he will tell me. Now. How are we on understanding all of this?"

"My goodness, you certainly have your ways."

"Oh, you have no idea."

"Alright, Dr. Phillips. I believe we have a deal. But if it's not back to me within six months-"

"Dr. Hill." I righted myself into a full standing position, sliding my sunglasses back onto my face. "As a scientist, and as a doctor, you have my word."

"And Dr. West?"

I nodded. "He and I have discussed all of this and he is in agreement. In no more than six months, you will get the thrill of a lifetime."

"Fine. It's a deal, then." Leaning down, Dr. Hill opened up the desk drawer on his left and pulled out a package. "Your precious formula." I snatched it up, opening it up and looking it over.

"There are only five vials here. There were at least twenty."

"It's called collateral. You will get those back once progress has been made."

My blood boiled. "Oh, you're a real piece of work," I shook my head, disgusted.

"Huh. You have no idea."

xxxxxxxxxx

Herbert had been freaking out all morning about his reagent. I told him I'd handle it, and that I'd go into town to meet with Dr. Hill about the note. When I pulled into the driveway at last, I could still see him pacing the living room; he stopped when he heard the engine die and by the time I was reaching the porch, he was already there. "Well?"

"Got you a present," I smiled, motioning for the house. "C'mon, let's go inside." He wheeled around in a flash and bolted like a kid on Christmas. Reaching into my backpack, I pulled out the small satchel that contained what was left of our reagent, handing it to Herbert. "He has the rest," I told him, "and will give it back as needed."

After filing a police report down at the local precinct in regards to my "stolen" car, I went back home to help Herbert recreate the formula. I was about to head into the basement when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Immi?"

"Hey, Shelley. How are you?"

My cousin chuckled. "Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing? You have been through enough for twenty in as many days."

"I'm getting there. Got a job at the university's morgue."

"Oh, honey, that's great! I'm so proud of you."

"Aw, thanks, Shel. Also, um…. there's something else, too."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"When we were at the hospital, I found out I'm having a girl."

"You are?! Oh my gosh, that's fantastic! Congrats!"

"Thanks!"

"Did you tell Herbert yet?"

"Naw, not yet. It's been pretty crazy over here. I'll tell him tonight."

"Aw, I'm gonna have a little niece….. I can't wait to tell Mom and Dad. Oh! Oh, hey, this is so perfect! Do you want Daisy's old baby clothes?"

"What?!"

"Yeah! We still have a lot of them packed away. Toys and stuff, too. You can pick them up next time you're here in town."

"Oh, Shelley, that- God, that is so sweet of you. Are you sure?!"

"Of course, sweetie! And hey, before I forget, too, speaking of clothes, I wanted to let you know, you forgot your coat here when you two came up for the weekend. We have it hanging in the closet."

"Oh! Wow, I guess I did! Thanks for telling me. Um… I guess just leave it there and I'll use it as my backup for next time I come visit you."

We chatted awhile longer before Herbert came up from the basement to get me. He and I got to work at re-creating Tina's formula to the best of our ability, as the original bottle had been destroyed in Hill's break-in.

Herbert slid into his seat at his desk with a sigh, opening up his notes and skimming them over. He was silent for a little while before piping up quietly. "When do you start at the medical examiner's?"

"Not for another two days. Why?"

"We need a body."

"Shouldn't we focus first on the recreation of the Tina reagent?"

"Yes, and we will. But if Hill wants results, and if he's as dense as I really think he is, it won't matter _what_ reagent we use. He'll see it as some semblance of progress, and this will buy us time."

"Hmm. Sounds fine by me," I shrugged, planting myself across from him. "So. Where do we begin?"

"From the bottom, up," he half-smiled at me from across the workbench, handing me a stack of papers with reagent formula equations scribbled out across them. With that, we got to work.

We worked like crazy that night on number crunching; I'd gone upstairs to get some food and when I looked out the window, the sun was just barely starting to come out. I was shocked! I hadn't looked at the clock all night, and barely felt tired. But I went downstairs and told Herbert what time it was - six-thirty- and that I was going to bed. He actually stopped and came to bed, also, without any sort of fight.

The both of us slept until well past noon. It was about three when we then called Dan for a ride and made our way into the morgue. I used my newly acquired pass to get in, telling Mace up front that, since I was the new assistant, I wanted to take a body home with me to practice. He seemed impressed with this, and didn't argue when Dan and Herbert helped wheel one out. And when we got home, Dan helped hoist said body into our house as inconspicuously as possible, which was even harder than it sounds.

Dan helped get the body situated in the basement. He smiled at us, looking pleased in being able to help out. "Well." He nodded. "I suppose I'll leave you two to it, then." He was turning to go when Herbert called to him, and he turned back.

"Well, aren't you going to stay?"

"Stay?"

"Imogen can't lift in her condition," Herbert motioned for my belly. "We'll need a third set of hands for this one."

Dan looked from Herbert to me to the body and back again. "What, you…. you want me to help?"

"Of course, we want you to help," I smiled at my old friend, whose grin just widened.

Naturally, there was nothing special about the body we reanimated that night; there was the small glint of hope that something miraculous would happen and suddenly this man we didn't know would get up to sing us a song and dance us a jig and we'd be problem-free for the rest of our lives, but, being realists, we knew this would not be the case. This body was just like the rest - at least, like the ones before Tina. And even she didn't sing or dance. In the end, after all was said and done, all she did was beat us senseless, chase down a motorcycle like a mad dog, and finally come to a literally explosive stop along the road. We started a new journal with this body - not a new one, necessarily; a secondary one dedicated to the work we did for Dr. Hill - we took down the notes, put down the body, and the boys hoisted him back to the morgue, where they incinerated him and then came back to our house.

Dan went home not long after, and it was for the best, because we all were exhausted. I walked him out and then rejoined Herbert at the workbench in the basement, where he stood pouring over notes. His eyes were heavy. I silently slid into the stool next to him, leaning my head against his arm. He gave an ever-so-faint and bemused smile, throwing me a quick glance. "Tired?"

"Mmm," I nodded. "It's nearly four."

"You should go to bed. I'm almost done here."

"Why don't you come up now, too?" I glanced up at him.

"There's one more thing I need to figure out."

"Oh?"

"Just a little tweak to the Tina formula. It won't take me long."

"Mmm." Leaning back against his arm, I looked over the dozens of papers in front of us, but was too tired to process anything. I had enough in me to do one last thing before I went to bed. "It's a girl."

Herbert stared at me. "I'm sorry?"

"We're having a girl," I pulled myself upright, glancing up to meet his eyes.

He studied my face for a few long moments, slowly putting down the papers he'd been obsessing over. Another surprise: something to pull him away from work. "When did you find out?"

"At the hospital the other day. You were having your CT's done and a doctor was checking me and the baby out. He was doing a sonogram anyway, and asked if I wanted to know. So I said yes," I shrugged.

"A girl….." Herbert murmured, starstruck. He looked me over, tentatively placing a hand at the base of my stomach.

"We've been so crazy-busy, I wasn't really able to tell you until now," I smiled sheepishly.

His eyes came back to meet mine, and a little smile began to spread across his face. "Thank you." His love.

"Always." My promise.

xxxxxxxxxx

MUSIC:

I was really inspired by Peter Gabriel's "We Do What We're Told" here, in terms of the scenes in which Imogen and Herbert have been blackmailed by Hill. It's mostly instrumental, this song, and what few lyrics there are - "We do what we're told, told to do… One doubt, one voice, one war, one truth, one dream….." - well, it's pretty simple and pretty perfect. :)


	29. He Called Me 'Son'

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 29: He Called Me Son

"I won't be gone long." Herbert frowned sourly. "This is the _last_ thing I need to deal with right now….."

"You're sure you don't want me to go with you?"

"No," he shook his head decidedly, meeting my eyes. "You stay here. No sense in you catching cold." There was a pause. An incredibly short one, but it was there in a flash before he continued. "After all. I would be lost without my assistant." The slight, comforting smile that came over him then made me smile, too.

"What about the car? Why don't you take the car?"

"It's not mine," he shook his head matter-of-factly.

"So? You can use it if you want."

Herbert smiled reassuringly. "It's fine, Imogen. The bus is fine. It won't take me long."

"And you'll come home right after?" I opened the door for him, handing him his umbrella. The sound of the rain on our tin roof was hypnotic; it came down in rivets that pooled in patches around our porch. It was an unusually chilly day for an east coast summer; Herbert pulled his jacket around him and took the umbrella from me as we stepped out and under the protective covering of our porch. Opening it up, he leaned it against his shoulder, ready to brave the rain.

"Of course," he replied quietly, and then he hesitated, studying me for a moment. I could see a storm behind those eyes, a storm I was not only used to seeing but was also becoming fond of. He touched my cheek. "I trust you as I trust no other."

Smiling, I took his hand and kissed it, feeling the blood rush to my face. "And I'll be here when you get back."

He smiled, too, squeezing my hand and finally stepping off our porch towards the bus stop. I took up my coffee again from where I'd left it on the windowsill, warming my hands and my face.

It had been a long time since we'd had a good rain. The gloom seemed to match the mood of that day: the day in which Herbert went to not only meet Dr. Hill regarding our work on the reagent, but also to receive the autopsy results on his father. I stood in the front doorway long after watching Herbert disappear on the bus, sipping my coffee and watching the water dance from our gutters. Rain is so cleansing. No matter what happens - good day, bad day, "can I start again?" day - a good rain washes everything away and lets you start clean. It's like you can think clearly again. I sighed and hoped it would happen for us that day.

Three weeks, practically a month, had gone by since the incident with Herbert's father, and the time in which Dr. Hill had first blackmailed us. My face was at about ninety-eight percent healed, the bruise pretty much gone. It had taken awhile for the autopsy results to get back, and Herbert was going out for not only a regular meeting with Hill, to discuss the reagent, but to also get the results back. Strangely, and most worryingly, it had been quite calm in those weeks. No calls from the cops - none that involved any suspicion being directed our way. We couldn't tell if it was luck, or if they were just biding their time, or what.

I pulled myself out of bed that morning, having struggled to sleep, and cooked us breakfast and made us coffee. I was exhausted anyway, and thinking about what lay ahead for us made me even more tired. I wanted nothing to do with Hill, and neither did Herbert; it hurt me to think he had to go through this meeting alone, but it was at his insistence. It was something we knew we just had to deal with. "It won't be much longer," I had comforted him over our eggs and toast. "And then we can be rid of him for good."

We worked at the reagent practically every night, and had been to my family's home once a week since, in which we stayed there overnight. Even if we ended up pouring over notes all night while there, it still allowed us a change of scenery, if you will. And all those weeks that went by brought us that much closer to a little girl.

The thought of bringing my daughter into a life living under the thumb of an asshole like Hill was what terrified me the most. If I wasn't pregnant, I would be a lot more fearless. For myself, there was no fear. But for this helpless little being in me, well, she had absolutely no way of defending herself. I could feel it like I was watching a blow coming round: something was going to give, and hard. A decision was going to be required of us, and I had begun to prepare for it.

I did the dishes, cleaned the kitchen. Poured myself another cup of coffee. An hour crept by, then two. Eventually, the rain stopped, although the skies remained gloomy. Three hours came and went and I found myself watching TV for the first time in weeks. Old black and white films gave me comfort in that their dilemmas all seemed so simple compared to ours. But today, "Arsenic and Old Lace" was on, and Cary Grant was having to deal with one serial killer brother, another brother who was convinced he was Teddy Roosevelt, and two aunts who, out of "charity," fatally poisoned passing men and buried them in their basement. The darkness of it struck a little close to home, but I loved that movie. The final credits had faded out not ten minutes before there was a dark flash at the windows. I glanced up in time to see Herbert unlocking the front door. Shutting off the television, I got up to greet him.

"Well?" I smiled hopefully as he shook off his coat. He seemed a little too calm, and I wasn't sure if I should be worried or relieved.

"_Well,_" Herbert sighed, hanging up his coat on the post by the door. He turned and gave me a small smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Under a microscope, my father's blood looked even better than Tina's. I told him about the bodies we'd been working on. He's going to tell the police my father had a rare strain of rabies, and that they shouldn't be worried. He also sent me home with this," he took a hand out of his pocket to reveal two small vials, containing maybe twenty cc's each of a dark, rusty-colored liquid. "It's my father's blood. He says he's storing the rest for us and that he'll dispose of my father's body for us." He tossed me one of the vials. "and I want you to hold on to one for us."

I caught it, studying it over as my smile fleshed out into a grin. "That- that's good, right? I mean….." Herbert came over to me. "I really thought he was gonna flip out or something, I mean _really_ flip out. You know how he is, he just- oh, gosh." I sighed. I still felt so apprehensive. "Herbert…."

"Don't worry." My partner put his hands on my hips. "I think this is going to end a lot sooner than we initially thought."

"That's what I'm worried about," I hugged him to me. "I have this horrible feeling that something is going to go wrong. I mean, how many late-nights have we pulled with the TV on in the background? All those horror flicks where they think they're out of the woods and suddenly, _bam_, something surprises them and- I dunno."

Herbert pulled me back. "Oh, no, young lady. None of that. We're gonna be fine."

"You're always so sure of these things, huh?"

He shrugged. "It's true."

"Alright, alright," I sighed, smiling. "You win. For now."

My partner's face fleshed out into one of those devilish little grins again. "What do you mean, 'for now?'"

"Wha-" I laughed. "Never you mind, West!"

"Ah!" His eyebrows raised. "Back to last names, are we, Phillips?"

"Touche!" I laughed. "So, what's the plan, huh?! Another body, another trial, what?"

Herbert sighed, thinking. "Your family's got that grill, right?"

"Uh-" I gaped at him. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Think they'd mind us coming up and me using it?"

"Ah-what- I mean, I-" I shook my head to clear it. "Herbert, are you- are you wanting to _cook _the bodies now?"

"God, no," Herbert gaped, but then suddenly he had a lightbulb moment. "Why, do you think it would help the work?"

"Okay, that's disgusting."

Herbert grinned. "Did you like my joke?"

"Oh, my God!" I burst out laughing. "You? Telling jokes? Where did you learn that?"

"Pretty good, eh?" Herbert shrugged. "Steve was telling me a few."

"Not bad," I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. "Not bad at all."

"So whaddaya say? What about a getaway to Innsmouth?" He slid his arms around me.

"Really?"

"Sure, why not? I'll pack the microscope and some slides and we'll pour over some formulas again. We have that blood and we can tweak it tonight and then leave tomorrow."

"But I-"

"They did invite us, did they not?"

"Well, _yes_, but-"

"But what?" I could see the sparkle in his eye, the enjoyment at teasing me, and it made me laugh at last.

"Oh, shit, Herbert," I shrugged in defeat, laughing. "But nothing. Fine. To Innsmouth it is, then."

xxxxxxxxxx

We worked like dogs the rest of the night, only stopping to eat dinner. Building formulas, breaking them down, re-working them, mixing them, labeling _everything_. I couldn't remember the last time we'd worked so hard. By the time either of us stopped to think about it, it was already three in the morning, and we were about done anyway; I left it up to Herbert, who felt confident in what we'd accomplished that evening. We created a handful of new bottles utilizing Quentin's blood, and Herbert left me a few of those, as well. We went to bed exhausted, yet content.

The next day we threw our things together, jumped into the car, and drove the near-hour it took us to get to my family's home back in Innsmouth. Despite the air of doom and gloom that still hung about us, I actually found myself smiling most of the trip; I was happy. The confidence I held in Herbert was matched by the trust I also had for him. He knew how to take care of us.

When we arrived at my family's home, Herbert was the one to insist upon carrying the bags. My cousin-in-law came out to greet us.

"Steve," Herbert smiled. "Good to see you." My partner shook Steve's outstretched hand.

"Doctor West, how's it going? All's well on the Miskatonic front, I suppose?"

"Hmm, 'tis to be expected."

"That bad, eh?"

The two of them laughed, and I was left gaping at them. "Since when did you two become best friends?"

"Ah, c'mon," Steve waved me away, teasingly. "You two hungry?"

"I know I am," I nodded.

"Good, 'cos you promised you'd grill, right, Herbert?"

"Indeed, I did, Steve."

"Herbert, what I want to know, is: when in God's name did you find the time to learn how to grill?"

"Wha-" Herbert gaped at me. "Really, Imogen, I'm surprised! What else do you think I've been doing hanging around the grill with Steve, every time we come here?"

"Talking shop, of course!"

"Ah, well, there's where you're wrong! It's not _all_ shop, you know." Herbert grinned at me.

I felt like I was hallucinating. "I can't believe you," I shook my head, still laughing.

It was a gorgeous night out. Everyone was home, and everything was perfect. When Herbert was done at the grill, we all sat down to eat out back. Everything was perfect, delicious! "Herbert, this is amazing!" Shelley gaped at my partner, who smiled slightly.

"Thank you, Shelley."

We even had seconds, and chatted and laughed as relaxed as ever. Everything was winding down and we were almost ready to clear our plates when my aunt stopped us. "Wait, everyone. Hang on a minute." She smiled at me and at Herbert. "I just- I don't think I've ever said this before. And it's sad, because I should have said it eons ago. Herbert," she glanced over at my partner. "I'm not gonna lie to you, son. You definitely are one of the strangest men I've met. But I knew from the moment I met you that you would never steer my girl wrong," she pointed at me. "I wanted to thank you, on behalf of myself and my husband, for taking such good care of our niece. And we are proud to have you as a part of this family."

"That's right, Herbert," Harry continued, clapping him on the back. There were sounds of agreement and approval from my cousin and her husband. "We're real grateful, son."

Herbert's face was frozen in a look of shock and awe as he took everything in. "Son…." he murmured, so soft, I think I may have been the only one to hear it. He swallowed hard. "Thank you, Jane. Harry. I cannot tell you….." Herbert paused for a shaky breath. "I cannot tell you what it means to me. Thank you."

Inside my chest my heart damn near exploded, and I quickly wiped away a tear that tried to escape. We continued eating and chatting merrily, but within about five minutes, in which Herbert was silent, he excused himself briefly from the table. Everyone was starting to clear anyway, and so I waited a few moments before getting up to follow him. I knew something was up.

The house was quiet; I passed through the kitchen, in through the living room, around the staircase and into the sitting room, where I could have sworn I heard a quiet little sound, like a sniffle. The rest of the house was illuminated, but the sitting room was dark, yet I could still see Herbet's silhouette against the window as he stood, staring out. I quietly made my way to him, gently sliding my arm through his. He didn't move, just stared out that window, and I looked up to see a tear slide down his face.

"He called me 'son,'" Herbert whispered. I silently slid my arms around his waist, going up on my tip-toes slightly to kiss his cheek. He hugged me back tightly. We had a few minutes to ourselves before I heard my name from the kitchen. I glanced up at my partner. "You go on," he gave a quick nod off, sniffling slightly and managing a smile.

"You sure?" When Herbert nodded silently, I went on. "Alright. You take your time, okay?" He nodded again with a smile. Reaching up, I gave him one more quick kiss and was off to help my uncle load the dish washer.

I was loading the last plate when my aunt flipped on her record player, and I grinned as the voice of Midge Williams filled the room. _"Where in the world can my lover be….?"_

"May I have this dance?" Harry held out his hand for my aunt, and she curtsied, taking him up. Shelley was laughing as she wiped down the kitchen table from the mess we'd made cooking. And I was too busy laughing, also, to notice Herbert, coming in from the living room. He coughed slightly and I turned to find him looking in on us with the tiniest little smile in the corner of his mouth. He took a few tentative steps for me, sheepishly holding out his hand with a look of, "Well?" on his face.

"Miss Phillips?" He asked quietly. He'd never called me "miss" before, and it made me blush.

"Mister West," I curtsied slightly, taking up his hand. He pulled me to him gently, sliding an arm around the small of my back and taking up my other hand in his. He spun me around, and I began blushing, so I buried my face in his neck that he wouldn't see me (although, in hindsight, I was sure that was a dead giveaway). He was quiet, but the look on his face was by far the warmest I'd ever seen him exhibit for as long as I'd known him.


	30. Would You?

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 30: Would You?

In the trips we'd begun to regularly take to visit my family, stargazing had become a regular occurrence, something that just Herbert and I did. Every night after dinner, we'd clean up and then go out to the fields directly across the road from my house, lie out on our backs, and watch the cosmos unfold before us. Somehow, despite both cities being major ports, there was less light pollution in Innsmouth than there was in Arkham, and this made it so much easier to see what was going on up there. That night was no different; I had made it out first and Herbert came out only moments after. I could hear the soft crunching of dry grass under his feet before my eyes picked him up. Lying out on the grass next to me, he put his arms back behind his head and crossed his ankles, and for a little while, we just lay there, inches apart, silently enjoying the little stars. Eventually, it was Herbert who broke the silence.

"Remember when I told you I had stayed on the roof of my school for a week as a child?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I used to lie…. just like this. Watch the stars crawl across the sky every night before I fell asleep." A shooting star zipped above us in a flash. "Ah!" Herbert and I smiled. "I used to count them. Once I got to nearly a billion."

"Really? You never told me that."

"No?"

"Mmm," I shook my head. Another shooting star flashed. "Did you ever dream of there being creatures out there in those stars?"

"Are you kidding me? Captain Nemo, remember?" I laughed, and he continued. "And you are speaking to someone who was both born and raised in Dunwich. So… yes, I suppose I am predisposed to believing, to a certain extent, the stories that have been whispered here. Well. At least…. predisposed to entertaining them, if nothing else. I was a very….. imaginative child."

A cool breeze made the tall grass around us sway. It tickled my arms. "I never believed them," I murmured. "Stories about…. subterranean beings emerging from the foothills of Dunwich, fish-people who live in old abandoned churches. I've always enjoyed them, but they were just campfire stories to me. I used to laugh when people would get scared."

Herbert was quiet, thoughtful, and after a few of these silent moments, he turned his head to me slightly. "Used to?"

"Before I met you. Before I found Rufus in our basement, and passed out in the living room. I was scared of you then. But more than that, I was….. so intrigued, even then. From the moment we met. I only got scared once I found the cat."

"What caused your fear to cease?"

"Mmm….. you. Your pride. Rather, your…. wide-eyed belief that what you were doing would actually, eventually, work. The more you explained it to me, the more I wanted it, too. Someone once said that, when you yourself brush so closely with death, you're more in-tuned with it, and it seems to hang about you for a long while after, like a storm cloud, even if you live a long and healthy life. You know, you hear stories about people dying for five minutes and then coming back with the ability to talk to the dead. That type of thing. But for us, I think it's different. We've both been through a slightly different type of trauma, one in which our parents were ripped from us when we most needed them. And I think- I think I related to that. Even at the very start, I related to the innate need to retrieve something lost. If I couldn't bring my parents back, I could for someone else."

"But you have your aunt and uncle. Your cousin."

"Oh, that's different. I mean, yes, I still have a family. A family who ended up raising me and loving me. And I love them. But parents are irreplaceable, Herbert."

"So you're saying you cannot ever be content, then. If your parents - the 'your,' of course, being strictly hypothetical - if your parents are gone and there is no bringing them back, you're saying one cannot ever be happy again, correct?"

"Oh, heavens, no," I shook my head and glanced at him. "No, you can be happy again. I mean, people do have others, such as aunts and uncles and cousins. People can add husbands and wives and children and nieces and nephews. And it's great when you do. I mean, it's what everyone wants and loves. But once that connection is severed between a parent and child, it's just…. it's just devastating. What I mean to say is, there's no other connection quite like it in this world. And despite the deep connection I have with Jane and Harry and Shelley, I just…. I've still always felt….." I trailed off, trying to come up with the right word.

"Marked."

It was then that I finally turned to have my gaze meet his. I was pleasantly surprised at his interjection, and something about it felt right. "Yes," I smiled sadly. "Marked." I studied his face for a few moments, trying to read him. I found that it was a preferred pastime of mine, trying to read his face. Sometimes it was easy. But most days, it was a real challenge. He was somber, thoughtful; there was a real kicker of a storm brewing behind those dark eyes. I let out a short breath and gave a little smile. "I think we're doin' some real bonding here, Dr. West." He gently slipped his hand into mine. "You sure you're not a therapist, too?"

Herbert smiled so faintly, and let out a short little laugh. We were inches apart, and he raised our hands up from the elbow to study our intertwined fingers. "It must be so nice to be wanted…" he murmured.

"What do you mean, 'must be,' huh?" I smiled, squeezing his hand. "You should know, doc." He glanced up at me, studying my face, quickly muttering an "I know, yes, it's just….." but he trailed off, and was silent again for a few moments. He continued to study our intertwined hands.

"Hey," I whispered, reaching up with my free hand to brush a stray piece of grass from his hair. "What's on your mind, huh?"

He gathered his thoughts. "Would you marry me?" It was more of a hypothetical than an actual proposal - more of an 'if.' Still, my mind had to scramble back onto its feet. I tried not to gape as I gathered myself. It was as if he was changing before my very eyes. Two years previously, I'm sure he would have never even _fathom _acting in such a way. In fact, I could see him laughing hysterically at the mere notion of even _being _with a woman, much less what he was suggesting. I was beyond floored.

"Would you _ask_ me?"

His eyes darted up to meet mine again, and he stared at me for a few moments, eyes wide. Reaching up, Herbert drew me into him and kissed me deeply.

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MUSIC:

One song that really inspired me in terms of the growing relationship that Herbert and Imogen share is a song called "Follow Me" by Muse. It's just a sweet song about two people who will stick together no matter what…..


	31. The Gravel Road

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 31: The Gravel Road

By the time we got home the next afternoon, Herbert had already arranged for us to get another body. Dr. Hill told Herbert in their last meeting that he would supply as many bodies as we needed, so Herbert took the car to pick it up. On his way over, I called Dan and asked if he would be able to help lift the body for us, and he was free, so he immediately came to our house. And when the boys got it into the basement, we went to work. Dan offered to stay and help, which was a surprise, but we were so happy for the help that we agreed. This time, I made sure to grab our old video camera; we hadn't used it at all in our studies, and I figured now would be the best time. I recorded everything.

"Okay. So." I sighed, crouching over the body of this unknown man with shaggy blonde hair and five o'clock shadow. He looked as if he may have been a beach bum at some point in his life. "Whaddaya say, doc?"

Herbert flipped through his journal. "Well, as I recall from our work the other night, the Quentin reagent, when given just a little Tina reagent, worked fine."

"Yeah, I remember that. So how many cc's?"

"Oh…." My partner glanced the man over, scratching his head. He looked back down to his notes. "Says here the man is in his late thirties to early forties, six feet tall, two-hundred-thirty pounds. Let's say twenty cc's?"

"You got it, boss," I filled the syringe with the neon-green formula and stuffed it back in my pocket. "Alright." I held the syringe in hand, glancing from Dan to Herbert. I handed the syringe to my partner. "Here. You do it."

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'what?'" I stretched my arm a bit further. "It's your work. You do the honors."

Herbert smiled. "Alright." He took the needle, uncapped it, and released the formula into the man's neck, immediately starting the timer.

"Here goes nothing," Dan murmured, getting to his feet. I did so, also, scooting closer to him. I grabbed his arm.

"You think it's gonna work?" I whispered.

"Dunno," he whispered back.

"Ssh, ssh," Herbert hushed us, his eyes glued to his watch and to the body. "Fifteen seconds…"

Time crawled by. We hit thirty, forty-five, sixty seconds. Still nothing. Herbert swore, throwing down his journal. It was as that green book we'd come to see as our bible hit the ground that the man's arm gave a spastic twitch. Herbert's eyes went wide. "Yes!" He checked his watch. "Sixty-three seconds to reanimation!"

Crouching down around around the man's head, we studied his face, and watched as the man slowly opened his eyes. They were fogged by cataracts, but he blinked a few times and remained relatively still. "Herbert," I whispered. "His chest is moving." And it was true, his chest was rising and falling with breath.

"Sir?" Herbert asked tentatively. "Can you hear me?" The man slowly turned his head to meet Herbert's eyes, and Herbert smiled. "Welcome back, sir. What's your name?"

"Ggg…. George."

"George?"

"Wwwhere aam I?"

"You're in my basement, George. Don't worry. We're taking very good care of you."

"Wwh…. who you?" He spoke slowly, as if he were trying to recall how to speak. It was going to take time for him to remember.

"My name is Herbert West. I'm a doctor. This is my colleague, Dr. Daniel Cain, and my… my partner, Dr. Imogen Phillips. She's a medical examiner." George tried to sit up, but Herbert stopped him. "Whoa, hold on there, my friend. You've had quite the shock. Try and stay still." George took heed and stayed put.

"Hhhow come I feel so…. so sore?" He swallowed hard. "I'm thirsty."

"I'll get water," Dan leapt up and flew for the stairs.

"Well, George, that's quite the story. For now I want you to just rest and tell us the last thing you remember."

George told us what had happened. Turns out, he had died of a heart attack that very morning, and he was one who wanted to have his body donated to science, hence Dr. Hill's claiming of him for our experiments.

"Do you have a family?" I asked him.

"Wife. Daughter." His head slowly turned to look at me, and he raised his hand to place over my stomach. And to my surprise, George began to smile. "You have baby, too?"

"Yeah," I smiled, glancing up at Herbert. "We're having a little girl, too."

"When?"

I shrugged and found myself laughing. "Pretty much any minute now. Maybe in a week or two."

George grinned a crooked yet honest grin. "Perfect." He turned his head to Herbert, still speaking slowly and somewhat strangely. "Yyyou…." he pointed. "Be gggood to them."

"I will," Herbert nodded the most honest answer I'd ever heard him give.

"He is," I assured George, and Herbert glanced up at me for a split second as Dan raced down the stairs.

"George? Here." With Dan's help, George gulped down the entire glass of water in seconds.

"Thank you," he leaned his head back onto the tarp. "More?"

"Sure," Dan was a trooper, rushing back up for another.

I rose to my feet to walk around to Herbert's side, and he rose to join me. "Herbert," I murmured, slipping an arm through his as his eyes met mine. "You did it," I whispered. With that, Herbert grinned.

It took all night, but we worked with George and talked to him, got him moving eventually and walking and talking a little bit better. It was exhausting because many times in which we'd help him walk, he'd topple over again, as his body was coming out of rigor-mortis, and then we'd help lift him back up again. Dan did most of the lifting with George, since I was so close to having my baby, and I coached, while continuing to film. But, again, birth is indeed exhausting for all involved, and George grew weary. I got ready to click off the camera. "Alright, well," I turned it on myself. "You heard it here first: the West reagent is, thus far, a complete success. We have Dr. Herbert West, the brilliant mastermind behind it all - say hi, Herbert -"

"You know it was Dr. Gruber-" He steadied George on his shoulder.

"Wh- well, yeah, I mean, it started with him, but you're continuing. And we have Dr. Daniel Cain-" Dan waved, smiling. "And they're helping our new friend George re-learn how to walk. You doin' okay, George?"

"Yeah," George smiled, giving me the thumbs-up. I turned the camera back to me.

"I don't know how else to follow that up, kids. This is Medical Examiner Imogen Phillips of Miskatonic University, signing off." But as we all began to wind down, the memory of Tina made us terrified of what would happen to George. "Where are we gonna keep him?" I asked the boys quietly, but George overheard me. He glanced around the basement.

"I like this," he pointed around. "I like chemistry. Was a biologist. Comfortable here. Maybe have blankets?" His speech needed some work, but his brain functions seemed to be working out fine.

"It's not going to be too comfortable, George."

"I have some old camping gear at my house," Dan piped up. "Including a cot. I can go get it."

"Dan, are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," he shrugged. "You guys just hold onto it until you're done with it."

"Oh," I sighed. "That- that would be great. Thank you so much. George, how do you feel about that?"

Our progeny nodded. "Good."

We stayed up with George as we waited on Dan to come back, during which time he enjoyed looking at Herbert's chemistry lab. Herbert was on edge as George wanted to pick up each different piece, but we found that George was actually quite gentle with each beaker he took up, making sure to put them right back where he got them. Not twenty minutes later, we heard Dan come back in. "Got it," he called from the living room.

"Wow, that was fast," I smiled.

"Meg and I used them last week when we went to Dunwich," Dan shrugged. "So I hadn't quite put them away yet."

Dan went back home straight away, understandably worn out from the hell of a night we'd encountered. Herbert and I were left to set up a place for George in the far corner of the basement, and explained to him that we would feel more comfortable if he didn't touch the lab equipment without us there, and that we would check on him first thing in the morning. George agreed, rolled over, and passed out in moments. We waited, checked his breathing, and Herbert furiously scribbled notes down in his journal. I collapsed against the metal lockers, trying to keep as quiet as I could. It was so still, all we could hear was three sets of lungs working. Having gone back upstairs for a couple water bottles, Herbert wearily came to plunk down next to me, handing me one of the bottles. Our sides were touching, and he patted my arm.

"Good job tonight, Phillips."

I threw him a sidelong glance, chuckling. "You too, West." I took a moment to take a swig of the water my partner had brought me. He smiled and I asked, "You really think he'll be okay for now?"

Herbert shrugged. "Yeah. Why not?" He took a sip of his water, then capped the bottle and left it at his side. We were silent for a while, enjoying the silence and stillness of our basement. I leaned my head against his shoulder, and he immediately moved his arm so he could wrap it around me. We were still breathing a bit hard from the flurry of activity that night…. it really was as if we'd given birth. I watched George sleep, his chest rising and falling in the dim light of our little basement, as normal and as real as he'd been before his heart had stopped.

Leaning into my partner, I thought of my life before I knew Herbert. I thought of myself over two years ago, right before he and I met, and marveled at not so much how I'd _changed_, but how much I'd _evolved_. I was a whole new person. I hadn't lost much of myself, if at all; instead of replacing things within the parameters of my mind, those boundaries had been expanded. I never knew there really was a world outside of the one I'd known. Those were the urban legends everyone talked about, the ones that you'd tell on those camping trips to Dunwich where you'd pretend the wolves howling were really tentacled creatures from inner space. "They invaded that guy's farmhouse, didn't you hear? Apparently, he caught it all on tape." The fact that Herbert's story was true made me wonder just how many other stories were also true….. We were traveling a road that had, to our knowledge, only been explored by one other man in this world, and he had died in Switzerland years earlier. It was a lonely, lonely road, but we were like pioneers in a brave new world. The thrill of our lives is not knowing what was at the end of our own gravel road.

Next to me, Herbert made a sound. I glanced up at him; he was lost in thought and it was as if an idea came upon him. He shifted in his seat; I watched him silently reach into his pocket with his free hand and pull something out. It was so tiny, his hand dwarfed it, but he reached out for me, opening his hand to reveal a beautiful gold ring with delicate little vines engraved all around. I gasped.

"It was my mother's," Herbert whispered, taking up my hand.

"Herbert, are you-" I choked on my words.

"What?"

"Are you asking me?" My voice trembled. The nod he gave me was so slight….. but it was there. "Then you know my answer." I held out my hand for him, and he slid the band of gold onto my finger. I reached up and kissed him, again and again, and it took me a moment to realize there were tears streaming down my face. I pulled back to look at him. He was trembling and his eyes were filling with tears, so I placed my hand over his heart and whispered, "Always."

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I wanted to sleep in the basement that night, to make sure George was going to be alright, but, being pregnant, I knew that wasn't going to be comfortable at all for me. So the two of us trudged up to my room and left the door open slightly, in case George started to wander in the night. But right as I'd gotten into bed, an idea crossed my mind; it was silly, but I got up anyway.

"Where are you going?" Herbert yawned, drawing the quilt back up around him.

"Hang on, I forgot something." I went through my bookshelves, pulling out old anatomy books, travel guides, history books. Africa, Ancient Egypt. An old, beat-up book of Steven's about ancient Sanskrit in the middle east, the one he'd let Herbert borrow just the day before.

"What- you want to _read_?"

I laughed. "No. These are for George."

Herbert chuckled incredulously. "We don't even know if he's retained any memories of how to read."

"I know. I don't care." I pulled out one last travel guide - 'A Backpacker's Guide to Thailand' - and left it on top of the stack. "These have lots of pictures and at least he'll have that."

"Mmm," Herbert grumbled, rolling back up in the bedsheets. "Well. Hurry up. We have lots to do tomorrow and I want to sleep."

I went into the kitchen, gathering up a couple water bottles; I was surprised at how well I was able to balance everything. Heading into the basement, I silently crept down the stairs, leaving the books and water by George's cot. Carefully making my way back upstairs, I slid into my room. Herbert opened up the sheets for me, and I collapsed in bed next to him, pulling the quilt back up around us. I was so tired, I was gone in seconds.

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MUSIC:

This chapter was named for the gorgeous piece by James Newton Howard, who composed it for the movie "The Village," and it's a piece I listened to while writing the scene in the basement after they bring George back and he gives her his mother's ring. They truly do have a difficult journey ahead of them, and that they're going together makes all the difference.


	32. The Coming Storm

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 32: The Coming Storm

The next morning, I was up first; like an anxious child on Christmas, I hurriedly got dressed for the day and prepared to go out, throwing on what clothes I could find. In mere minutes, I crept downstairs to check on George.

Our reanimated roommate was sitting up in his cot, studying the pictures in the travel guides. He was so quiet, I hadn't even heard him at all when I first opened up the basement again. He looked up and smiled when the stairs creaked under my weight. "Morning."

"Hi." I gawked, still stunned at what we'd done. "How did you…. um. How did you sleep?"

"Fine. Very comfy," he patted the cot. "Thank you for books and water."

"Yeah. No problem," I smiled. "Hey, um… are you hungry? I'm going to cook breakfast."

George thought it over. "Stomach feels rumbly. Food is good. What have?"

"Uh, well, you're in luck. Bacon, eggs…. the like."

"Delicious," George smiled.

"O-okay," I smiled back. "Herbert isn't up yet. The smell of the bacon will do it, though, that always gets him up." I could hear George laughing as I ascended the stairs back into the hallway. Once arriving, I was nearly bowled over by Herbert, whom I hadn't even heard get up. I jumped, grasping at my heart. "Jesus, Herbert, you scared the shit out of me!"

"I'm sorry. How is he?" It all came out in a rush as he breezed past me and down into the basement, still in his pajama pants and old battered Miskatonic shirt.

"He- he's fine, Herbert. He's hungry, so I'm making us breakfast."

"George?"

"Hi, Herbert."

"Hello." My partner stopped at the foot of the stairs. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, fine. Hungry."

"Good. I mean, it's good you're fine." Herbert was trying to read him for any signs of distress; it was the same standoffish way he had with all our corpses, but George was giving him nothing. "We can get you food."

"Imogen says she make breakfast," George pointed to me and smiled.

"Yes," Herbert gave one of his classic, ever-so-slight smiles. "She is quite the cook." This made me blush a little.

"She take good care of you. You very lucky."

My partner didn't say anything straight away, turning George's words over in his mind. "Yes." Herbert's voice was very soft when he finally did speak. "Yes, she does. Thank you." He glanced at me, filling out that little smile a bit further, and I could feel more blood rush to my face.

"You boys catch up," I smiled at them both. "I'll go make that food."

I'd gotten everything out, fired up the stove, and had been standing at said stove for only a few moments when I heard footsteps on the landing. I threw a quick glance over my shoulder to see Herbert appear from the basement. I smiled, turning back to the food. "How's he doing, doc?"

"He's fine," Herbert responded softly. In a moment's time, there was a gentle hand on my back. My partner leaned in to kiss my cheek, and he leaned his head against my shoulder. I smiled, leaning my head on his as I cooked.

"Mmm. What you thinkin' about? Hmm?" I kissed his cheek. "Our deal with Hill?"

Herbert silently nodded against my shoulder. Taking up one of the plates, I dumped the first couple servings of fried eggs onto it and shut down the stove, turning to put my arms around my partner. "Do you want me to go talk to him?"

"No," Herbert shook his head decidedly. "I don't want you anywhere near him. He's a maniac."

"I know," I nodded. "But what are we going to tell him?"

Herbert mulled it over, studying the little scar on my collarbone I'd gotten the night we'd had our run-in with Tina. "We're not telling him anything."

"What do you mean? Someone is going to find out. Isn't this man supposed to be dead?" I indicated George in the basement.

"Yes, but he's from Boston. Died of natural causes. Doesn't know anyone from this area, no friends or family here. Even if we were to let him walk around down the street, I doubt anyone would be the wiser."

"So how are we going to keep this from Hill, then? We have to tell him _some_thing."

"What would you have me say?" Herbert's eyes flickered back up to meet mine. "I can lie to him, but…."

"He's gonna find out, Herbert, he's gonna know and, honestly, I'm scared. Because this is exactly what he wants. It's what we've always wanted, but now that he has ahold of your work, he'll take it, baby. He'll sell us out and - my God, he could even kill us…."

"I know, Imogen- ssh, I know… I know….." Herbert pulled me towards him in a hug, and I leaned against him, feeling hopeless.

"We gotta run away. You and me and George. We gotta get outta here. Maybe….. maybe Dan and Meg would want to come with us." I chuckled forlornly, and Herbert gave a short exhale of a laugh.

"We'd still need to deal with Hill first, you know that."

"Yeah," I sniffed. "I know. That's what frightens me. It's the _how. _I don't want our little girl growing up in a world where that man can get to her."

"And she won't." Herbert pulled away and tilted my chin up to make me look at him. "We'll deal with him in any way possible. If he proves himself to be beyond reason, then we will deal with that accordingly. Do you understand?"

My breath escaped me. I understood him perfectly, so I nodded. Leaning in, Herbert kissed me, and I was so grateful.

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George was starving. He would have wolfed down the entire dozen eggs I'd just bought had we not cut him off; Herbert and I had two each plus we split the pound of bacon we'd bought at the store between the three of us. My partner warily watched George finish his food, having made sure to place himself between the two of us at the table. Neither of us had any idea how George's stomach would react to its first meal, but he seemed to be taking it quite well.

The three of us were homebound for days after that. George never left the house, but Herbert and I would leave occasionally; Herbert for work and I for food and other things we needed. On George's first full day with us, I went out to buy him clothes after finally unearthing his memory of trouser size. I bought him three pairs of pants, five shirts, two pairs of shoes and when I got home I dug through my old boxes to find an old, battered baseball cap from Miskatonic I let him have. We never left George alone, and would take turns leaving the house so the other could watch him. Herbert didn't like leaving me alone with him for fear of a potential meltdown happening when he was gone. It took a lot of convincing, but I was eventually successful.

Our progeny was at about 99% in no time. His eyes remained a vague, cataract-shade of pale blue, and his skin had a slight hue of gray to it; sometimes his joints wouldn't work properly, but George was otherwise fantastic. After four days, he had yet to have a meltdown. We still closed him off in the basement overnight and barricaded our bedroom door. At that point, we had long since made my bedroom into the only one, leaving Herbert's bed in his room but mostly converting it into an office.

George wasn't the only who was changing. Something happened to Herbert in those days, the days we raised George back up. There was one moment that burned into my memory because, despite its simplicity, despite it being seemingly unimportant, it was the way Herbert looked at me one night as he emerged from the basement. In his hand, he had the book Steve had let him borrow, the one about ancient Sanskrit; he and George had been in the basement together as Herbert worked. It was the same look he'd always given me: a look that, on the surface, was at once stoic and studious, but, being someone who knew him, the deeper I went, I found trust, acceptance, symbiosis, and love. But it was more than that. It was as if it was….. expanding. Like a light had been shined into the darkness and he could see something more profound than he'd ever imagined. "Herbert?" I turned away from drawing in the curtains for the night. "What's wrong?"

"Wr- ahem." He cleared his throat, shaking his head to clear it, too. "Wrong? Nothing. I'm fine." Resigned, my partner turned to the bedroom.

"No. Wait. C'mere."

He hesitated, turning to me slowly as I approached him, and finally turned to face me completely. Taking him by the arms, I studied his face, put a hand to his cheek. "Herbert," I murmured. "What ails thee, my love?" I allowed for a little smile, and managed to get one from him in return. It was his turn then to study my face; he traced a finger down my cheek, silently looking me over. "My love…" he softly echoed, and suddenly, there were tears threatening their way out. My jaw nearly dropped and I was going to say something but he finally and suddenly took me up in his arms in an embrace, clutching me to him. The smile on my face filled out; sliding my arms around his waist, I buried my face in his neck. But it was moments later that he pulled me back, kissed my forehead. His eyes met mine intently as he took my face in his hands.

"Thank you," he whispered. "A thousand times, thank you."

"Always," I whispered back, grinning. "Always, and forever."

xxxxxxxxxx

The next day - the fifth day - we called up Dan, with whom we'd been in contact throughout the process. We'd decided to move George into the spare room, where he could be more comfortable in a real bed, and asked Dan if he would be available to come over to stay with George so both Herbert and I could leave the house together for the first time in almost a week. I had a doctor's appointment, and we both knew we wanted more time out of the house afterwards. On the phone, Dan asked me if he could bring Meg. Herbert was hesitant, but after some slight begging on my part, he finally agreed.

There was a knock on the door shortly thereafter, and I found Dan and Meg standing anxiously outside. "How is he?" Dan asked, and I opened up the door further for them to enter.

"He's…. amazing," I chuckled, shaking my head as I closed the door behind my friends.

"Did you really do it?" Meg asked, stunned, and I nodded. "Where is he? Can…. can I meet him?"

"Sure. George?"

"Yeah?" His voice, still ever-so-slightly bogged down from the transformation, drifted up from the basement, where he and Herbert had been working on some physical therapy and on the notes for George's re-agent.

"Our friend Dan is here. His girlfriend would very much like to meet you."

There was the sound of feet shuffling on the basement floor, then the sound of thudding footsteps, slow and deliberate, on the stairs. Meg grabbed Dan's arm, stepping behind him, yet continuing to peer around her boyfriend's arm. "Don't worry," Dan chuckled quietly. "He won't hurt you."

The basement door creaked open and out came Herbert. He opened up the door for George, who meekly poked his head through and looked around. "George?" I went for him. "Do you want to come out?" Our progeny nodded, stepping into the warmth of the living room at last. His eyes fell on Meg, who was still clutching at Dan with a look of astonishment on her face.

"Mmmiss…. Hallsey?" George nodded his regards and slowly removed his hat. "My name is George," he offered his hand, and she gave the tiniest of starts, glancing down at the outstretched, ashen hand in front of her. A beat, two…. she finally, timidly came around and slid her hand into his, shaking it.

"It's nice to meet you, George," she said softly. "You can call me Meg. Everyone else does."

George smiled. "It's nice to meet you, too, Meg. Don't be worried. I don't bite."

This got Meg laughing. Her shoulders relaxed. "I'm not scared."

Herbert smiled at me. Moving over to him, I slid my hand into his, reached up and kissed his cheek. "You did it, hot shot," I whispered in his ear, and the smile fleshed out into a massive grin.

"Time to go," he squeezed my hand.


	33. Day at the Park

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 33: Day at the Park

George had absolutely no problem in being left alone; by the time we finally walked out the door a few minutes later, Dan and Meg were just as relaxed as ever. George even offered to teach Meg how to play chess. They were breaking out the pieces as Herbert and I climbed into my car.

The doctor had nothing but good news for us, and we left in high spirits. Soon we found ourselves at the little greenbelt between Parsonage and Peabody, just south of Church Street, where people took their dogs for a run and sat out with their picnic baskets. We took our things to the far end of the greenbelt and curled up under one of the massive trees that lined the park. Herbert, having brought his notes with him, pulled them out of his bag, and we wasted no time in putting our heads together. We talked about George and his progress, we talked excitedly about the new reagent. Despite our one final problem, I could see him beginning to relax. "There's still so much work to do," he said thoughtfully, studying the grass at his side.

"You could finally get published."

His eyes darted up to meet mine. "Published?"

"Yeah. The work Doctor Gruber started, you've finished; it can be published under your names."

Herbert smiled silently at this, thinking things over. We continued chatting about the work, but after awhile, the conversation shifted.

"I want to go to Innsmouth this week."

"Your family? I would very much like to see them again."

"Mmm," I nodded. "We can get another body, too." But Herbert smiled at me, taking up my hand and leaning back into the tree. He didn't say anything for a few moments, studying my face. He chuckled. "What?" I laughed.

"Nothing," he shook his head. "It's just, we don't- I can't believe I'm saying this…."

"What?!" My laughter grew, and I nudged him with my shoulder.

"We don't need one right now."

"Wow." I sat in awe and wonder, the air leaving me slowly. "Doctor West. For the first time."

"Yes. The first." We shared a few silent moments before I spoke up.

"So what are you going to tell Dr. Hill tomorrow when you see him?" I asked softly, glancing over my shoulder. Pieces of my hair danced out in front of my face, making me push them back behind my ear. Herbert sat up again, bringing himself in next to me. We were maybe a foot or two apart, making it easy to hear each other talk so softly.

"I told you: nothing. I'll make up some story about how we're still working tirelessly. I'll come up with a false positive."

"Like what?"

Herbert's eyes darted to the group of frat boys playing frisbee out on the lawn, the lecture class gathered in the far corner. The mother scolding her son for running off without her. The wheels in his head were churning, I could see that much in his eyes. "I'll tell him we have a body scheduled for pickup tomorrow night. The reagent has been perfected; Tina's reagent, refined and combined with a bit of something new."

"And what if he insists upon sitting in on this one?"

Herbert did a double take. He stared me down. "What?"

"Hey," I opened up my arms. "I'm just trying to prepare you. There is a chance he could ask."

"Hill never asks. He demands."

"My point exactly."

My partner gave an aggravated sigh, leaning back into the tree. He lackadaisically began picking pieces of dirt off of his trousers. "Dammit, Phillips," he murmured, shaking his head. And suddenly, I began to laugh. I began to laugh, and I couldn't stop. Herbert gaped at me incredulously, and to my surprise, he began to laugh, too. Soon, tears were streaming down our faces, and I was lying out in the grass next to him, gasping for air amidst fits of laughter. "Oh…" I gasped, choking as I sat back up. Herbert steadied me with a gentle hand on my back. "I need to stop. She doesn't like it," I wrapped an arm around my stomach, where our little girl flipped and turned and protested our jokes.

"What, is she kicking?" Herbert, drying his eyes, sat up intently.

"Yeah, here…." I took up his hand, gently placing it over the spot where she lived, and there it was, _bomp bomp bomp. _Herbert gasped, his eyes flying up to meet mine. I grinned. "You felt her."

My partner nodded slowly, and his face softened as he smiled slightly at me. He was deciding something. God, how easy it had become for me to look in his eyes and see everything. He leaned in slightly to kiss me - _We're in public! He never kisses me in public! _My mind reeled. But just as our lips were about to meet, FWOP! The bright blue frisbee owned by the frat boys came down right in our laps, making us both jump, and Herbert darted back, frazzled, to adjust his glasses and revert to the pouting, stoic West I'd once known. He glared up at the young Miskatonic student that came bounding over with his friends. "Shit, guys! I'm so sorry. My friends, they…. they kinda tend to let this thing get outta hand."

"Nice pun," I chuckled, handing him his frisbee.

The young student thought it over for a split second before it sunk in. He laughed. "Ha! Nice! Anyway. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," I shrugged. "Things happen."

"Thanks. See ya."

"See ya." I turned back to Herbert, whose attention had slowly turned back to me. He smiled sheepishly, and I squeezed his hand.

"Try again?" I whispered, smiling hopefully.

And I think that was the first moment I could ever recall Herbert West actually blushing. One of a very few, at least. He leaned in and kissed me at last; it was obvious he was nervous, but it was still honest and sweet. A warm hand slid across my back and when we finally separated he pulled me in towards him and into a hug. There was a screeching of tires far behind us, on Church Street; I turned to find a shiny new dark blue Mercedes-Benz tear down the street, finally hooking a left on Peabody and nearly knocking down a pedestrian, who had a few good words to shout. "God," I chuckled. "What's eating that guy?"

"Imogen?"

I turned at the sound of my name. It was Hannah Carson, the classmate of mine Quentin had taken hostage. "Hannah! Wow, hi!"

"Hey," she smiled, crouching down a few feet from us. She eyed Herbert nervously. "How are you?"

"Miss Carson." Herbert nodded his greetings. "Quite well, thank you."

"How's the baby?" Hannah asked me.

"Oh, she's great, thanks," I smiled, leaning back on my hands.

"She?" Hannah gasped. "You know?"

"Yup, we…. I couldn't wait. I had to."

"Aaw, that's so sweet….."

"How are you, anyway? Everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm great. Just finished up my third year, as you know. And…. this is so random…"

"What?" I laughed, urging her to continue.

"Well, my cousin got married last week, and, at the last minute, the guy they had set up to officiate the whole thing got the flu real bad, and couldn't do it. Well, apparently, City Hall ordains ordinary citizens to be able to perform things like weddings and such - you know, like how a captain on a ship can marry two people? Yeah, that. Anyway, I went down and got ordained so I could marry my cousin, and I did."

"Oh, my gosh!" I laughed. "That is awesome. Good for you!"

"Thanks," Hannah laughed.

"Hannah," a girl from behind her called out, and it was then I noticed a group of her friends a ways off. They were eying Herbert and me suspiciously. One girl, the one who'd called out for Hannah, couldn't stop staring back and forth - Herbert, my stomach, back, forth…..

"Just a minute," Hannah called back, and she turned to us and sighed. "Anyway. I just…. I wanted to stop by for a moment when I saw you two here because I realize I never really got a chance to thank you."

"Aw. For what?"

"Well, the whole thing with….." She anxiously indicated Herbert. "Your dad….?" Herbert cleared his throat, crossing his arms and nodding. As Hannah continued, she pulled a pen and a slip of paper from her purse and began to write. "Anyway, like I said, I never got a chance to thank the two of you. If there's anything you need, I owe you a solid. Both of you." She smiled at me and at Herbert, passing me the note. "That's my number. Let me know."

"Hannah. That's very sweet of you. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

"Yes," Herbert nodded honestly. "Thank you very much, Miss Carson."

As Hannah trotted off with her friends, their voices, unbeknownst to them, carried.

"Hannah! Haven't you heard about him? They say he's dangerous."

"Yes, they _say_. They don't really _know_, though, do they? Oh, come on, he's fine in my book!"


	34. Last-Minute Decision

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 34: Last-Minute Decision

Three days later, Herbert, George, and I were packed and ready for a couple days in Innsmouth. I'd told my family George was a fellow classmate who'd also just graduated, and that he needed a place to stay while his new apartment was being refurbished; they were okay with him tagging along, which surprised me because I honestly had no idea what to expect. George borrowed an old suitcase of mine, and since he didn't own much, he was able to fill it only about half-way. Herbert offered to drive, and I climbed in the front seat next to him. George ambled in behind Herbert, and I studied him as he fumbled with the seatbelt. "George, is this the first time you've been in a car since….?"

He thought it over a bit before answering. "Yes, I believe it is." He nodded slowly.

"Oh!" I glanced at Herbert and grinned. "Progeny's first car ride." This made George laugh, and Herbert smile. He started up the car and pulled from the drive, pointing us towards my family.

The drive there was quiet, mostly, outside the occasional comment, question, or answer. The trees that rushed by lulled me into a state of calm, which was interrupted by the sound of the wind gushing past a back window suddenly. Herbert's eyes darted to the rear-view mirror, and I glanced over at George. He'd rolled down his window, and stuck his arm out, along with part of his head, to feel the rush of cool air blasting past our car. I'd never seen such a smile on anyone's face in all my life. His eyes were to the heavens, darting amongst the clouds, his blonde hair dancing wildly across his face.

When we arrived at the house, Harry and Jane were out; Steve, still at work, was due home at any time, and Daisy was playing upstairs, which left Shelley to greet us. She hugged me, as well as Herbert, who immediately took my bag and his upstairs to my old room.

My heart fluttered as I turned to introduce my cousin to our new friend. "Ahm. Shelley…. this is George, a friend of mine…. from college. George, my cousin, Shelley…." I watched her face intently as she studied his face and tentatively took his outstretched hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Shelley. I've heard much about you."

My cousin laughed nervously. "All good, I hope."

"Oh, yes."

And it was as if they were waiting for the cue - my aunt and uncle breezed in then, happy to see us all, happy to meet George, who made an impression on my aunt and uncle, neither of whom suspected a thing. It was a flurry of greetings, but as Herbert and George began to move off to the kitchen with my aunt and uncle, my cousin grabbed my arm.

"He's one of them, isn't he?!" she whispered frantically; Herbert threw a quick glance over his shoulder at us.

"Jesus, Shel-" it was my turn to grab her arm as I corralled her to the porch and shut us outside. We descended the wooden steps and ended up half way across the yard. "Could you _be_ any more obvious?! Herbert has no idea you know about this shit and, frankly, I'd like to keep it that way."

"You brought a goddamn zombie into the house!"

"He's not a zombie! What the hell is wrong with you, Shelley?"

"Me? Wrong with _me?_ Oh, that's real rich, Imogen, coming from you, the one who plays God and tampers with lives."

"You spent two friggin' seconds talking to him. You're going to judge him off one friendly 'hi, how are you?' Why don't you get your ass in there and actually _talk_ to him?"

"Imogen? Shelley" Jane's voice, wary, met our ears from the porch. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Mom." Shelley turned, smiling. "Everything's fine."

"Huh. Okay. Well. Why don't you two come in and we'll get lunch started. George says he'll make a salad."

"You should get him to wash his hands first."

I smacked her arm and glared at her; she opened her mouth to protest.

"_Girls_. I don't know what's going on but you two are actin' mighty strange, and it'd best stop. Now. C'mon," she motioned for us to join her. We trudged inside after her like a pair of sulky teenagers with their tails between their legs. Steve got home as we were sitting down to eat, and I stealthily forced my cousin to sit next to George, who (the sweet man) worked hard at striking up a conversation with her. And it wasn't long before she started to bend…. I knew she would, and the two of them chatted throughout lunch.

Lunch was over soon enough, and, shifting in my seat, I stretched, trying to get comfortable. Having a stomach that enters the room before you do certainly takes its toll.

"Everything alright?" Herbert was about to get up when he noticed my discomfort.

"Oh," I laughed. "I'm fine, yeah, I just….. my back's sore." I made a face. "I think I'm gonna go walk around outside, stretch it out a bit."

Another one of those classic, tiny Herbert West smiles appeared on my partner's face. "Care for company?"

"I would love company," I smiled.

Herbert cleared my plate and his, and I walked on out the front door and into the fields that stretched out before our farmhouse. I heard his footsteps quickly try and catch up, but he was wordless as he finally slipped into step beside me, his hands shoved into his pockets. We shared a smile as I took his arm, walking in silence for some time.

"George looks good in there." I smiled hopefully.

"Yes," my partner nodded. "He certainly does. Your family doesn't seem to suspect anything. Although your cousin….."

"Yeah, Shelley can be wary of new people sometimes. She's always been like that." Did I just lie to my partner? I couldn't tell, and it made me ill. "What are we gonna do with him after we talk to Hill? We bring this life into the world…."

"Oh, he'll be fine. We're taking good care of him, right? At least we didn't go the way of Frankenstein and reject him into the snow."

"Well, yeah, but…."

"What's on your mind?" My partner slowed to a stop and turned, making me turn, also, so we could face each other.

"I told you. It's Hill. It's always Hill. What are we going to do about him?"

Herbert sighed, his head dropping and his shoulders slumping. He kicked at the grass beneath his feet. "Hill," he said the name with disgust. When his eyes met mine again, they were resolute. "We kill him."

My heart fluttered a bit at the thought. Normally, had this been three years previously, I would have undoubtedly fainted, much like I did when I found Herbert that first night with Rufus. "Herbert, we're not killers."

"I've killed two men with no issue."

"Those were self-defense," I reminded him, thinking back on his father and on Gregorson, the journalism student who, mysteriously, was never found.

"Hmm. Still. I had no problem taking them out when the need called for it. This, too, can be considered an act of self-defense." Out of nowhere, to my utter shock, I began to cry. (I blamed the damn pregnancy hormones.) Herbert's proverbial jaw hit the grass, and I'm not going to lie: mine did, too. But Herbert stepped towards me, taking me up in his arms. "Imogen," he murmured. "You know it's to protect us, right? Right? Do you not trust me?" There was the slightest hint of a frown there.

"Of course, I trust you," I nodded against his shoulder, but finally lifted my head. "Herbert, I trust you with my life! Oh, God. Stupid hormones, I just….. ugh." Sniffling, I rubbed at my eyes.

"Immi? Honey?" It was my Aunt Jane.

"Oh, shit," I swore under my breath. Just how I wanted her to see me. Herbert put his arms around me comfortingly.

"Honey, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, Aunt Jane," I smiled. "I'm fine. It's just these dumb hormones, they're totally screwing up my brain."

"She'll be alright, Jane, I promise." Herbert reassured my aunt.

"You know, Herbert," Jane smiled. "I don't know where my girl would be without you. You've always been so good to her."

Herbert was humbled into initial silence. "Thank you," he murmured. I, on the other hand, was crying again.

"We're very grateful." Jane's smile widened, and there was a pause. "So… have you set a date to get married yet?"

I glanced up at Herbert, who stood studying my face, and he took mine in his hand. "Today?" I whispered. "Please?"

"Today?" His echo was a whisper, as well, and I nodded. "Who would we call?" He asked hopelessly.

"Hannah."

My partner's eyes widened a tiny bit. He turned to my aunt, smiling. "Today, Jane. We're getting married today."

xxxxxxxxxx

Needless to say, my aunt nearly fell over. We immediately went back to the house, and I called up Dan, Meg, and Hannah, whose number I still had in my purse. I begged for a last-minute ceremony, and, to my amazement, she was free. All three would arrive within two hours.

I was headed into my room to search for something nice to wear when I overheard my name from down the hall. It was my uncle Harry, and then I heard Herbert; their voices were quiet, and I strained to hear them from my uncle and aunt's room.

"When my brother and his wife died, it was like a huge chunk was taken from our hearts. Imogen was only four, and it damn near destroyed her."

"I'm truly sorry, sir. I know your brother was a good man."

I could hear Uncle Harry chuckle. "You normally so sure about a man you never met?"

"How could I not be," Herbert replied. "When he has a family as incredible as you and yours?"

The two were silent for a few moments. There was a creak of a lid - I recognized the sound of my aunt's jewelry box. "This was my brother's," Harry said, and I silently peered in to see my uncle hand Herbert my father's wedding band. My jaw dropped. I had no idea he'd saved it! "And this…." Harry's voice was pained. "This was his wife's. Her wedding ring. I want you two to have them. I was saving them for her anyway, if and when this day ever came. And Herbert….." Harry put a hand on Herbert's shoulder. His voice trembled. "I could not be more proud to have you for a son."

My hand clamped down on my mouth; fresh tears streamed down my face. Herbert choked a thank you, and hugged my uncle. I chose that moment to turn back to my room. I dug through rows of dresses, and found one in back that had been a summer dress of my aunt's from years back; it was light and simple and flowy and perfect. A beautiful splash of lavender. I slipped it on to see if it fit, and to my joy, it was nearly my size, only a tiny bit big. But it didn't matter, it looked wonderful anyway, even given the fact I was pregnant. I pulled it off again to save it for when the others arrived. I washed my face, I combed my hair; I'd taken a shower that morning, and didn't feel the need to re-do everything else, so I put on some makeup and by the time I was done, Meg and Dan and Hannah had all arrived. Meg had her camera at the ready, and I called to my aunt and uncle. "Uncle Harry, you're giving me away, right?"

His eyes welled over with tears. "Of course I am, sweetheart." Harry pulled me into a hug. "I love you so much, Imogen."

"I love you, too, Uncle Harry. Aunt Jane. Love you." I hugged her, as well, and she returned an 'I love you.' "Okay. I'm gonna change real quick. Jane, I hope you don't mind….?" I held up the lavender dress.

"Oh!" Her face lit up. "Oh, no, sweetie, please wear it. You'll look beautiful."

"Thank you. Where's Herbert? The others?"

"Waiting out front for you. They're all in position, ready to go."

"Okay. Go wait with them. Harry, wait for me and we'll be right out."

I changed in mere moments, and tried to slip back into my shoes, but they were unruly with the dress, and I felt strange in such regular shoes with a pretty dress. I tore off the shoes, opting to go barefoot. When I stepped out into the hallway, Harry had a bouquet of white roses in his hands. "Your aunt brought these. They're from her garden."

"They're beautiful," I whispered, holding on to them and taking in a lung-full of air. They smelled even better.

"Not nearly as beautiful as you."

My eyes stung. "Thank you," I gasped, righting myself at last. I glanced up at Harry. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned, offering his arm.

xxxxxxxxxx

The air was cool and quiet that afternoon, and the sun had mercifully dropped down behind the house as to not blind anyone. They were all there…. the ones who meant the most. Aunt Jane, Shelley, Steve, Daisy, George, Dan, Meg, Hannah….. Herbert. He stood up front in a new dress shirt and black slacks, and a jacket that made him look like he'd won an Oscar in Hollywood. He was so handsome. I was so scared. Happy…. but scared, too. Even then, Herbert's face remained stoic as ever, but it didn't hold very well, his eyes began to well over and he started smiling when I was half way to him. Dan snapped pictures because Meg was too tearful to steady the lens.

It was short, and to the point, and sweet. Hannah said a few words. Spoke of our days at Miskatonic. Little Daisy presented us with the rings, and we slid them on.

"Imogen. Do you take Herbert to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do. Always."

Hannah smiled and turned to my partner, whose eyes trembled. "Herbert. Do you take Imogen to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

There was absolutely no hesitation. He practically cut her off with a voice that was steadier than I'd ever heard it. "I do." Despite the steadiness, his voice still cracked.

"Well, then! By the power vested in me by the great state of Massachusetts, I do henceforth declare you husband and wife. You can kiss your bride now, Herbert."

My aunt burst out crying as Herbert took me up and kissed me in front of everyone. Even then, I still thought, _Is this a dream? Herbert, kissing me in front of others….. _But I shook off the thought, letting myself get lost in the one moment most everyone waits a lifetime for. I held him to me, letting all the fear and sadness and joy and love wash over me, knowing that, no matter what happened… we were a family at last.

As the others cheered around us, Herbert brought his forehead to meet mine. "Thank you," he whispered.

"_Forever_," I whispered back.

xxxxxxxxxx

MUSIC:

"Everything That Rises" by Moby. It's a beautiful song that definitely carries a foreboding feeling about it, much like the wedding; a gorgeous event shadowed by events they feel coming and are bracing themselves for.

Another song is yet another by Moby, called "Forever." It is actually quite bittersweet, but it is gorgeous and I actually love it here :)

And finally, we have "Thank You For Hearing Me," by Sinead O'Connor, which is such a wonderful song, and perfect for two people who are coming together. It isn't just "Thank you for all the good;" there are also some thanks given for the bad, as well, because that's what life is, a collection of good and bad.


	35. The Host of Seraphim

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 35: The Host of Seraphim

We were there for two days before we had to go home again; we claimed it was due to work, which it was, in part, but it was also due to the fact that Herbert needed to have his planned bi-monthly meeting with Hill. After washing the clothes I'd worn while in Innsmouth, I put them straight back into the suitcase I'd used; when I went into labor, I wanted to have a bag packed and ready to go. I got a little over-zealous and packed a second one full of clothes and other items, as well. I didn't care. I would have rather been over-prepared than under-prepared. I left them by the front door, just in case. While Herbert was at his meeting, I took the roll of film from the makeshift wedding in to the drug store and had them developed. And when I got home, I began to tidy up. I found the spare bottle of George reagent in the living room, where I left it on the nightstand, so I shrugged, slipping it into my coat pocket to remember to put away the next time I was in the basement. Another uneventful meeting with Hill went by, and when Herbert arrived home shortly after I did, all was quiet. We settled into another usual night of dinner and study.

"I got the photos developed," I smiled over dinner.

"Photos?"

"From the past few days. The wedding, and all."

"Oh! May I see?" George's face lit up, and Herbert intently watched me pass them to our friend, who leaned over to show my partner, as well. They both smiled. "They turned out wonderfully," George told me.

"I think so, too," I blushed. "Thanks, George." He handed me back the photos, and I slipped them back into my purse.

We finished dinner and as we cleared the table, I hummed quietly to myself, lost in thought, trying to put everything together. I was scared of what I knew we had to do - I knew we had to kill Hill - but I knew it would be like a fever breaking. We hadn't even told George yet, and why would we? I was pulled out of my subconscious by Herbert's voice. George had long since retired to the basement.

"You sound happy."

I smiled. "Of course, I'm happy. Are you happy?"

Herbert was smiling, too, that same, faint little smirk I was so accustomed to. He mulled things over a bit, rinsing off his plate. "Yes," he nodded after a moment or two. "Yes, I'm very happy."

"We only have two things left to do."

"Hill, and the baby?"

"Mm-hmm. Then we're free and clear. What do you want to do first?"

"First?"

"Yeah. I mean, after… you know. After the baby comes, and after…"

"Hill, yes." Herbert nodded, and for once, he was speechless. After a few silent moments, "I don't know."

"We'll have to figure out how to get you that Nobel Prize," I giggled. "Unfortunately, I don't think they take kindly to murderers."

"It's self-defense."

"I know, sweetheart, but I don't think they'll see it that way. Do you doubt the cops would arrest us or kill us if they discovered the truth?"

More sulking. "I don't know."

"Hey." I put down the dish towel, turning to face him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Herbert shook his head. "It's fine," he murmured, turning to face me, as well. "You didn't upset me." He was studying my overwhelmed stomach, and he smiled.

"What?" I laughed quietly. "What's that smile?"

"I am excited to meet her."

"Me, too," I whispered, and I hugged him. "She's going to be perfect." Herbert nodded into my shoulder.

Our moment was interrupted suddenly by the sound of the phone ringing. "I'll get it," I kissed Herbert's cheek and trotted off.

"I'll finish up here," Herbert held up the dishes, and I grinned a 'thanks!'

"Hello?" I was greeted by silence, then by heavy breathing. Then, "Imogen?" The voice cracked and shook.

"Yes, wh- wait, Shelley?" I shook my head in disbelief. I'd barely recognized her voice. "Shelley, honey, are you okay?"

She sniffled into the phone. "Can you come home?"

"What's wrong, Shelley? Did something happen? Is it Daisy?" The alarm in my voice had brought George out of the basement and Herbert away from his dishes.

"Come home. Please." A choked sob tumbled from her as a man's voice gave a harsh command too low to understand. "And bring Herbert and George."

"Whose voice is that? Put him on the phone."

"She wants…." Sniff. "To talk to you." A hushed and definite response. "He says no. He says….. he says you can talk to him once you get here. But you need to get here now."

"Where are Daisy and Steve? Aunt Jane, Uncle Harry?"

Another choked sob. "They're dead, Immi. He killed them all."

My heart exploded, and it was my turn to choke. My eyes burned with tears; my throat, with bile. "My God! We're on our way, Shelley. You hang on, okay? We're on our way!"

I practically sprinted for the front door, grabbing my purse and my keys and throwing on my coat. I did a double-take at the bags at the door and swooped them up as well. "What in the hell is going on?!" Herbert, frantic, was behind me in seconds.

"We need to go. We need to go right now. Both of you, in the car."

"What happened?!"

"They're dead, Herbert. My family is dead. All but Shelley."

"No." My partner shook his head. "No, they can't-"

George leapt into action. "I call police."

"No! No. George. No. We can't. My cousin is the only one left alive. This man will kill her if the police come. He wants the three of us to come or else he'll kill Shelley."

"Who? Who has her?" Herbert grabbed up his bag and his green journal, but it slipped out of his hands. I grabbed it.

"I got it, I got it." I slipped it into my coat pocket as we rushed outside. "I don't know, she didn't say," I wept, throwing my bags into the back of the car. "But he explicitly asked for the two of you to join me. I don't know how he knows us, much less the two of you-" I stopped dead in my tracks, realization hitting me the same moment it hit Herbert, who cried out in shock. Our eyes met.

"Hill," he whispered.

"I knew that voice was familiar. Oh, my God, Herbert. That man has my family."

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The tires screamed from the driveway and down the street. We made it to Innsmouth in record time, and I was shocked that we didn't get pulled over. I must have been hauling at eighty the entire trip. My head spun and my heart was on fire; I could barely see to drive through the tears. Next to me, Herbert curled up in the passenger seat, drawing his knees into his chest. Another damning blow to us all.

I pulled into the driveway and we were out of the car in seconds, throwing ourselves at the house. I burst through the front door to an eerily quiet house. It was dark, save for the occasional lamp here and there, but they barely illuminated what we needed to see in order to make our way through. I slowly and carefully pulled off my coat, hanging it by the front door. My foot hit something in the living room. I looked down; it took my eyes a moment to register in the darkness, but there was a body. _Oh, God, no._ I crouched down and rolled the body over to expose my aunt, whose face was half-way missing from what appeared to be a gunshot wound. I gagged, let out a cry. Stumbling back, I tripped and would have gone down hard had it not been for George, who caught me just in time. I looked to see what I'd tripped on. It was Harry. "No, no. No, please, no…" I sobbed. George hugged me comfortingly.

"Immi?"

My ears perked up to the voice. "Shelley?"

"I'm in the kitchen."

Herbert, George, and I made our way through the carnage; my heart was in my throat and as I rounded the corner, I found my cousin tied to one of the kitchen chairs. She was an absolute mess. Beaten, bloody; there was a horrible gash across her cheek. "Oh, Shelley," I choked, rushing to her, but the familiar _click_ of a gun stopped me.

"Not wise, Doctor Phillips." Doctor Hill stepped in from the shadows of the pantry, .45 trained on me. He came to stand behind my cousin and moved the gun to her head.

"No-"

"You lied to me."

"I…. what?" I shook my head.

"You both did." He glanced at Herbert, and then back to me. "You and your partner told me you were yet to be successful."

"We only just met George."

"_LIES!_" Hill roared, making us jump. "What was that, in the park the other day….. something about a false-positive? Were you looking to trick me? I told you something horrendous was going to happen if you didn't abide by the rules set forth."

A shudder rippled up and down my spine as I envisioned Hill eavesdropping on us at the park. I remembered the car. "You don't happen to drive a dark blue Mercedes, do you?"

"Why, yes," Hill smiled. "How did you know? Ah, nevermind," he waved the idea away with his free hand. He was about to continue when the front door opened. I recognized Meg and Dan's laughter straightaway, and my stomach dropped.

"What the hell?" I glared at Hill.

"I'm the gentleman from the storage facility, having called on behalf of Jane and Harry Phillips to have them help their friends pack and move things." The grin on Hill's face was demonic.

"You son of a bitch."

"Imogen?" Meg's voice shook. "Oh, Jesus Christ, what-" Meg started to cry, as did Dan. "What in the hell is going on here?"

"Wonderful," Hill smiled. "Backups!"

"Backups…?" Meg shook her head, confused.

"Please," I cut in before Hill could respond. "You've made your point. Let Shelley go."

"Let her go, eh? Let her go." Hill chuckled. "I'll tell you what. Give me everything. All your notes, all your formulas, everything. Right now. Give them to me, or watch your cousin die." Hill readjusted the barrel of the gun at the side of Shelley's head, and I jumped, giving a cry.

"Imogen, please. Do what he says."

"You really should listen to her, you know."

I was crying too hard. I glanced to Herbert. His jaw was on the floor. "Please, Doctor Hill," I begged. "We- we'll give you what you want. I swear. Just- just let her go."

"Oh, I've already destroyed too many potential specimens here tonight. It's why I called those two in the first place. I need one that will work, and this woman is my last chance. Well, along with you two." He indicated Dan and Meg again. "I told you, I'm going to be famous. Now. You have to the count of three. Make your choice."

"Shelley!"

"One."

"Imogen, _please!_"

"Two."

"Fine, we-"

_BLAM!_

"NOOO!"

My cousin slumped forward in her seat, blood rushing from her like a river. The whole world fell apart around me. Screaming, George flew at Hill like a demon, and actually knocked him down for a moment. There was a scuffle; I pulled Shelley away. "STOP!" I screamed. "Please, stop!" Doing as I commanded, George leapt away, putting his hands above his head to show Hill he was backing off. And to my utter shock, Hill stopped, too. He was fuming.

"Please," I wept. "Don't hurt him. Don't kill anyone else. I'm begging you."

He was silent for moments, his lungs heaving. "I can't kill him anyway. He is the perfect specimen. So you have lucked out now, Phillips," he spat. "Do not disappoint me again."

I hugged my cousin to me, sobbing. She was gone, gone… the last tie to my family, severed. Herbert, having freed Shelly's now-limp hands, crouched over me, hugging me to him, and I looked up to see silent tears streaming down his face. "Herbert, she won't wake up." I don't know why I said it. But I just couldn't wrap my mind around it. My cousin, my sister, the girl I'd grown up with, the woman I'd just had breakfast with that morning. The family that raised me. _My_ _family._ Gone. Behind us, I could hear Dan and Meg crying, and George pacing. And in my arms, Shelley slept peacefully at last.

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MUSIC:

The title of this chapter came from the song "The Host of Seraphim," by Dead Can Dance. It is pretty much the world's go-to piece of music for horrible scenes like the one we've just witnessed. Other songs include:

"Boadicea," by Enya, and "Sacrifice," by Lisa Gerrard (who happens to be the singer in Dead Can Dance). All three are heartbreaking. These three songs can be carried over into the next two chapters, as well. (I will continue to make note.)


	36. Go Home, Baby

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 36: Go Home, Baby

"Go get your work."

I glanced up at Hill. "What?"

"You always carry it with you, correct? Go. Get. It."

Tense, Herbert turned to Dan, clearing his throat. "Dan? Would you mind?"

"Not at all," Dan turned for the door.

"Front seat, floorboards. Brown bag."

He was back in minutes. The bag was heavy; Herbert had put everything in there. Hill took it out back. "Where are you going?" I called out, but he ignored me, and was back inside in only a moment.

"What did you do?" Herbert gaped at Hill. He was livid. I could practically feel the terror pumping through him.

"All in good time, my friend." Hill chuckled. Herbert jumped up, but Hill stopped him. "Sit down!" My partner, fuming, did as he was told.

I was holding Shelley to me when something caught the light, drawing my attention up again. Hill stood before us, arm extended; in his hand was a syringe of re-agent. He was handing it to me. My eyes darted to meet his. "No." I shook my head.

Hill sighed, wordlessly pulling down the hammer on the .45 and pointing it at Herbert. I gave a start, crying quietly as I shakily took the syringe from him. "It's going to be alright," Herbert whispered, keeping his arms about me. "I promise, we're going to be okay."

I nodded, sniffling, as I lifted Shelley a bit. Her head rolled back; her face was so peaceful. It was like she was sleeping. "I'm so sorry, Shelley." Taking a deep breath, I injected the re-agent into my cousin and gently let her back down.

And it was the worst wait of my life. She finally gave a jerk about thirty seconds later, and her eyes opened. "Shelley," I cried. "Can you hear me?" Her naturally brown eyes, blue from death, rolled around the room, trying to focus. I said her name again, and she turned to me, her face contorted in an effort to remember. She clutched at her head and I helped her into a sitting position. "Honey, are you okay?"

My cousin nodded. "Hurts."

"What hurts?"

"Head. Big ache."

"Magnificent! Even with the wounds, she still continues to function perfectly." Hill was giddy with excitement, and Shelley looked at him, confused.

"Who?" Shelley pointed to him.

"He's a professor from my school."

She went back to nursing her wounded head, and tried to stand, so Herbert and I helped her up. "Outside."

"You want to go out?"

She nodded, so we gently lead her out back to the yard, where Daisy's swing set gently swayed in the light breeze. We smelled smoke; Herbert gave a shout as we discovered Hill's reasons for needing Herbert's work. It was in flames on the grill.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Herbert shook so hard, I could tell it took everything in him to keep from violently throttling Hill right then and there.

"Don't!" I cried out anyway. "Don't. Herbert. Please."

Hill laughed. "I don't need it anymore anyway. I have the notes, the formula. Everything I need. I'll be famous!"

It was about this time that Shelley's demeanor seemed to unravel a bit as she had a hand to her head. She pulled it away, noticing the blood. "Immi? What that?" Finally, George started to cry. Shelley glanced at him, studying his face, trying to remember. "George," she finally recalled. And as I watched her, it all came rushing back - I could see everything come flooding back in moments and she started to cry.

"Shelley, honey, it- it's gonna be okay-" She gave an enormous howl, shoving me away from her. I steadied myself. "Please-"

"You promise! YOU PROMISE!"

"Shelley, I'm sorry! You don't understand, I had to!"

"Had to? What had to? Why?"

"Him! Don't you remember?!" I frantically pointed at Hill, who was becoming a bit uncomfortable at my acknowledgement.

My cousin glanced him over, and her eyes went wide. "You. You….." She began to shake. "You kill my family. You kill my baby! YOU BROKE BABY NECK!" My stomach churned at the mental image, and before I could move, Shelley screamed and lunged at Hill. The scuffle lasted mere moments before he threw her across the yard and into the side of the house. Dan was thrown off; Meg was thrown off. I was screaming, crying, and Herbert lunged at Hill then, ready. George was like a wild animal: teeth bared, snarling, crouching. It was when the .45 flashed against Herbert's head that George finally sprang, knocking Herbert out of the way and taking the full impact of the bullets. He crumpled to the ground, motionless, and it all came apart again.

Herbert, scuttling away across the grass, horror filling his features, came to protectively hover over me; I'd fallen into the grass to avoid being hit. Hill was on us in moments, hatred and evil flashing across his eyes; he raised the gun to meet us and in a split second, Shelley screamed, leaping upon him with everything she had. "YOU DON'T TOUCH MY FAMILY!" Before I knew what was happening, she had him on the ground; a great, powerful spray of blood erupted from Hill's neck as I realized she'd ripped his throat out. I clutched at Herbert, who still had his arms around me protectively, and a hand flew to my mouth as I felt myself starting to get sick. Shelley got to her feet, spitting blood, and Hill didn't move again.

Herbert's coat was around me. Life was coming at me in images; "She's in shock," Herbert quietly told Dan as they helped me inside. We made it to the couch.

"Shelley. Shelley!" I remember calling for my cousin.

"Here," she smiled, crouching in front of me. She looked like death, warmed over. I was coming back into myself, and she called for Herbert. "Help me, please."

"With?"

"Mom. Dad. Help upstairs."

"Where do you want to take them?"

"My room."

"Dan," Herbert called. "Get Harry, will you?"

"Yeah."

One body at a time, Shelley lead the boys up the stairs with her parents; Meg and I followed to find Steve in Shelley's room. He'd been dead for awhile, and a little foot stuck out from underneath him. I started to cry again, realizing he'd died trying to protect Daisy. They rolled him off of her, lining him up next to Harry, and then Daisy next to him. Then they went back for Jane.

When it was done, Shelley sat cross-legged amongst them, cradling Daisy's limp little body in her arms. "Mommy loves you, baby. Mommy loves you…" My whole body shook with sobs. And I wasn't the only one. Meg was on her knees next to me. In seconds, she was up and out in the hall; I could hear her vomiting on the landing. Dan went out to get her.

"Shel, I'm so sorry," I wept.

My cousin nodded, looking up to me. "I know. It okay." She became thoughtful all of a sudden, and reached into her pocket, producing Hill's gun. She looked up at me, and handed me the gun. I gawked at her.

"I don't…. I don't understand." But it started to make sense then; I realized what she was asking me. My whole body began to shake. "No," I shook my head. "Don't ask me."

"You my cousin, Immi. Has to be you."

"No, no, please. Please, don't make me do this, I can't!" I thought I was going to lose my mind.

"Please?" she begged. I brought my eyes to meet hers, dragging my hands across my eyes to clear them. She went on. "I'm dead. They're dead. Please. Let me be with them." Tears were streaming down her face, mixing with Hill's blood that had started to dry on her chin.

I slowly took up the gun from her; it was heavier than I'd imagined. I pulled back the hammer, _click click click. _In front of me, Shelley gathered up Daisy in her arms again, clutching her baby to her. The look on her face was one only a mother could give their child. "We go home, baby. Goin' home." She looked back up to me and smiled as the tears continued to pour.

Out in the hall, I could hear Meg shaking. "No, no," she sobbed quietly. "No, please, no….."

"Don't listen, Meg. Don't." Dan's voice broke.

My hand shook so hard I was afraid I'd miss. I squeezed my eyes shut, giving a little wail. "Please, I can't…."

"Imogen," Shelley's voice reached my ears, quiet and resigned. I opened my eyes. My cousin was still smiling. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Shelley."

_BLAM!_

It had happened in slow motion. My cousin landed out on her back, in between her husband and her mother, with her daughter still clutched in her arms, and she never moved again. I dropped my arm, the gun clattering to the floor at my feet; I could feel it tearing out of me like a hurricane. I screamed at last, screamed so loud, I was sure I'd awoken half of Shanghai, but no-one heard me. I was alone at last.

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MUSIC:

"Boadicea" by Enya

"The Host of Seraphim" by Dead Can Dance

"Sacrifice" by Lisa Gerrard

Also: "Division" by Moby (explanation in next chapter)


	37. Worst Possible Timing

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 37: Worst Possible Timing

Harry and Jane's wedding day. Mom and Dad's wedding day. Shelley as a baby. My first birthday. Our first summer together after Mom and Dad died. Shelley and me, on a field trip in high school. Shelley's high school graduation; mine. Shelley's wedding; mine (those were polaroids). Daisy's birth announcement. Daisy's first birthday. Christmas. My college graduation. Our picnic at the beach.

The tears were so great, I could barely see the pictures I collected as I went around my house, stuffing them into an old carry-on, along with old clothes of Daisy's that Meg had fished out of the attic. We'd need them - the clothes and the photos - for our little girl. She needed to know what it was like to love. To love and to be loved. To be a part of something greater than herself. When the bag was stuffed full, I zipped it up and put it by the door.

Dan and Meg were seated on the couch, silent as the grave; Herbert stood by the window, pale as a sheet. He was completely broken. I knew that, from this day forward, he would never be the same…. none of us would.

"What are we gonna do?" I sniffled, wrapping my arms about myself. My face was swollen from all the crying I'd done. I glanced over at Dan; he was comforting a weeping Meg, but I could easily see the wheels in his head rolling.

"We were all here, having eaten dinner. All of us. We were getting ready to watch a movie when a madman broke in and killed the family. We managed to stop him."

"What about George?"

"We won't mention him," Dan shook his head. "I'll destroy his body tonight. Right now, in fact."

"And the wounds on Hill's neck? How will we explain the bites?"

"I'll think of something….. one of us, defending the others by any means necessary."

"My work…" Herbert murmured.

"I'll take care of it, Herbert. I….. I'm so sorry."

I began to pace, through the living room, towards the foot of the stairs, when suddenly, something funny hit me. I looked down at my feet to find I was in a pool of water, and my legs were wet. "Oh, my God." The sharp pain hit me then, right in the pelvis. "Oh, God-" The others were up on their feet in seconds as I felt myself going down.

"Imogen?" Dan grabbed my arm, and Herbert was holding on to me, having vaulted one of the living room chairs. I stared at him.

"Herbert, it's happening."

"Now?!"

"I know, I know. Of all the times, right? Shit!" I clutched at my side as another wave of pain came at me.

"How far apart are they?" Meg asked.

"Seconds."

"What?! That fast?"

"I must've been in labor this whole time and not realized it. C'mon, get me upstairs, will ya?"

I was in my room in seconds; Herbert was barking orders as Meg and Dan rushed around furiously, trying to comply. Warm water, disinfectant, scissors, Betadine. Every single towel we could find. They put four layers underneath me. The pain was overwhelming; I was so close to delivery, we all knew I wasn't going to make it to the hospital, and this meant I was going to have to do this without any sort of pain meeds. Every bone in my body felt like it was snapping.

"Imogen? Darling. Listen to me." Herbert's face came into view. _He's never called me that before._ And I somehow managed to smile. "Listen," he repeated. "You're gonna have to push now. Can you do that for me? Meg is over there, she's ready. Are you ready?"

"I think so," I panted.

"Okay. Push! Go!"

I gritted my teeth as the most electrifying and ripe wave of pain flushed over me. I screamed and had to stop.

"Good! That was great!" Meg shouted. "You're almost there, sweetie, you're almost there. One more. Come on!"

Herbert took my hand up in his; I held on tight and gave another push. "I can't!" I howled, collapsing back into the bed. I was drenched in sweat. "Herbert, I can't, it hurts. Please, it hurts so much."

"You're doing so well, Imogen," Herbert stroked the side of my face, clearing my hair out of my eyes. He smiled at me. "She's almost here," he whispered.

"That's right, sweetie," Meg grinned up at me. "I can see her head."

"Really?!" I smiled.

"Again." Meg gave a curt nod. "Again!"

Gripping at Herbert's hand again, I hunkered down and gave one more big push. It was the worst of them all, and it felt as if I was going to detach. I screamed again, and there was a large, dull, 'pop' feeling from my pelvis, and suddenly, I could hear her crying. I could breathe at last, and the endorphins rushed over me. Meg was laughing, and Herbert was grinning.

"It's your little girl, Imogen," Meg was weeping, and she held up a tiny little wriggling mass of ten fingers and ten toes. She cut the cord, cleaned out my baby's airways, cleaned her up elsewhere, and bundled her up for us. Herbert put his head against mine, and I was crying. I couldn't believe she was here. I wasn't ready - I didn't even have a name for her. But we'd figure that out. For now, I just wanted to meet her. Herbert and I held her; Meg had checked the time and everything, and she scribbled down the little girl's information on a sheet of paper she'd found in the closet, alongside the Polaroid camera my family had used at my wedding. Meg snapped a picture of us, and when it was printed, she shook it dry, handing it and the paper to Herbert.

"What's the paper?"

"Makeshift birth certificate. It's official, since it's signed by a legitimate doctor." She smiled proudly. "You can get one printed up anywhere with that paper."

"I'm showing her to Dan," Herbert smiled. "Is that okay?"

"Oh, yes! Go, let him see her." I kissed his cheek, and he was out the door with our little bundle in tow.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Meg said quietly. It wasn't long before everything was done and done; the mess on the bed was massive, but it could be dealt with in time. Herbert came back in after a few minutes.

"She's six and a half pounds exactly. I weighed her on the scale in the bathroom." He smiled proudly, but I could tell something was wrong. I took our little girl from him so she could eat, and Herbert excused himself again so us ladies could have some privacy. My little girl was so stuffed from her first meal that she passed out, and slept like a champ. I watched her sleep for a few moments; Meg, silent as the grave, cleaned up further.

"Thank you," I said quietly, watching her tie up one of the trash bags. She looked up at me.

"You're welcome." Her voice was soft, somber. She pushed strands of blonde hair from her face with the back of her wrist, leaving the trash bag in the corner to dispose of later.

"I mean, for everything." I paused. "I can't believe he called you two. I'm so sorry."

Meg's shoulders slumped, and her chin dropped to her chest. She sniffled, and finally composed herself. "Your entire family was just murdered. Your cousin was murdered in front of you. You had to….. bring her back and then put her down again." She was weeping. "And now-" her face contorted in grief. "You bring your little girl into the world, amidst all this gore, and I can't help but think you are the most resilient woman I have ever met in all my life."

"Meg….." The tears poured from my face. I choked on them to keep from making any noise and waking up the baby. "I'm so glad he's dead," I shook my head. "I'm glad Hill is dead, I didn't want my baby in a world in which he existed. He was evil. And I'm glad he's dead." I couldn't tell whether I was crying or laughing at that point, and Meg, sobbing, was next to me on the bed, holding me and my baby.

The boys, having been alerted by the sound of crying, came back in then. Herbert sat on the other side of me on the bed, and he watched our baby bat her little arms in her sleep. Dan watched her from the end of the bed. "She's beautiful, Immi."

"Thank you, Dan," I wiped at my eyes. Meg handed me a clean rag, and I muttered a 'thanks.'

Dan cleared his throat. "Um. So listen. The amount of screaming going on here tonight; we may be secluded, but we're not alone. Someone is bound to have heard us. We have to go."

"What about the bodies?" Herbert asked. "You're going to need help."

"No, no, I can do this. I mean, so long as we destroy Hill and George. I can tell the police Hill made off with you and Imogen. They won't go looking for him then."

"How will you do it?"

"Oh… the fire out back is still going. I'll keep it going." He wasted no time, immediately going to work. Herbert got up and watched out the window; I could see the fire flare up in his face from the yard. Then there was a curious and questioning look on his face, when suddenly the fire flared up again, far bigger this time. Herbert's jaw dropped. His head darted around so his eyes could meet mine. "He brought Hill's car around and set it on fire."

"Good." I smiled. Meg went to get us food from the kitchen. It wasn't long before Dan joined us. "Herbert? A word?"

My partner excused himself and joined Dan in the hall. I stopped eating for a moment to snoop. In my arms, my little girl squeaked and squirmed. I kissed her cheek.

"Herbert, we have a problem. So I managed to destroy Hill's car. I turned on the radio downstairs. There's a riot at the hospital. It seems as if Hill re-animated some bodies from the morgue, and they've gone crazy all over Innsmouth."

"My God… How many?"

"They're saying nearly two dozen."

"How are we going to stop them?"

"We can't, Herbert, you know that. Not alone. We may have to let this one work its course. And… not only that, but we could very well say that George was one of them, and that Hill was killed by him. They wouldn't suspect."

"But didn't you get rid of the bodies already?"

"Mm, no, just the destroyed reagent. I heard the radio then, and came straight back up."

"So where does this leave us? Shouldn't we be in the clear?"

The silence that met Herbert's question made my skin crawl. There was something Dan wasn't telling him. "Someone at the hospital saw Hill there. Heard him mention your name."

"What? How do you know this?"

"Hannah Carson. I called her. She works at that hospital. She told me she was the one who saw Hill. Heard him say your name."

"What did he say?"

"He said…" Dan cleared his throat.

"Dan, what?!"

"Ssshh! I don't want to upset the girls. Apparently he muttered something to himself about how your work was now his. A few people heard it, including a cop. They're gonna investigate, Herbert. And after what happened to your father….."

"Oh, God, and the journalist…."

"Journalist? What journalist?"

"Never you mind, Cain. We need to fix this. What are we to do?"

"I need to get you three out of town. Meg and I can cover back here."

"Out of town? What, like Boston?"

"I'm thinking a little further than Boston, I'm afraid."

I started trembling again. I glanced to Meg; her eyes were wide. "Herbert?" I called for him.

My partner was at my side in seconds, with Dan hot on his heels. "What's wrong?"

"Is it true?" I glanced up at Dan. "Are we really gonna have to leave the country?" Herbert's head fell, and Dan's gaze dropped.

"Yes, I'm afraid it is true," my friend nodded. And just when the tears had started to dry, they began all over again.

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MUSIC:

Moby's "Division" is a sad, instrumental piece that will certainly break your heart. It fits here very well, especially as Imogen goes about the house to collect memories of her family…..


	38. Giver of Life

"The Scavenger Bride"  
Chapter 38: Giver of Life

I gave my little girl a clean diaper and then dressed her in the first outfit Meg pulled out of the duffle bag from downstairs. It was a little pink onesie with a handful of flowers embroidered on it, and I put little socks on her feet and a little hat on her head to keep her warm, then wrapped her up in a fresh blanket. I cried as I dressed her, remembering how cute Daisy had been in them when she was born. I then had Meg help me to the bathroom, where I stepped into the shower and rinsed myself off. I was so weak from having just given birth, I was surprised I didn't topple over. Everything was done in about a dozen or so minutes.

The phone rang in mere moments after my shower. I was getting dressed, using old clothes I'd left at the house. My heart stopped, and I glanced up to Dan. "Don't worry," he soothed. "I told Hannah to call me back here when she had more info." He raced downstairs to take the call. When he came back, he was all business again. "Okay, um….. we need to go."

"What?"

"We gotta go! Come on!"

I put my shoes back on. "Dan, what the hell is happening?"

"Get in the car, I'll explain everything on the way."

Herbert threw my duffle bag in the back with the rest of our things; I pulled on my coat, took up my baby, and raced down the steps with Meg's help. Herbert climbed into the back seat with me and the baby, and Meg stopped us. "Wait!"

"What? Meg, c'mon."

"I gotta take my car. You know. Get it outta here. I'll follow you guys."

"Good idea. Go, go."

Once in the car, Dan wasted no time in explaining things. "The cops are on their way to your house in Arkham, and to the house in Innsmouth. That's number one. Number two. Hannah got away from the hospital unscathed; she went by the docks on the way home. She says there's a boat leaving for Calais, France, in thirty minutes. From Calais, you can take a train into the Black Forest of Germany. They may initially suspect that region due to your past in Switzerland, Herbert, but for now, it will do."

I had to shovel my jaw up off the floor. "My German's terrible, Herbert, I hope you remember yours."

"Joking, Imogen? Really? Now?" But that smirk was there, and I smiled at him.

"You know I have to right now. Nothing makes sense anymore." I glanced down at the little girl in my arms. "Except her," I whispered.

Herbert watched her quietly, letting her hold his finger. She gripped it tightly, and I could see her little eyes trying to register the face in front of her. "She's so beautiful," he whispered.

"Have you two thought of any names?" Dan asked us quietly. He watched us from the front seat, smiling, and I glanced at Herbert.

"Not me. Herbert?"

He didn't say anything; he was lost….. somewhere far off…

_"You have name for baby?"_

_ George's question caught me off guard, as I had been preoccupied with the blood sample on the slide in front of me. But it wasn't just that - names? That was Imogen's division. As anxious as I was for the arrival of the child - __**our**__ child - a name for said child was the furthest thing from my mind. "Um," I cleared my throat. "No. Not as of yet."_

_Adjusting my glasses, I glanced up from my work to see George coming towards me. In his hand was the book Steve had let me borrow, about ancient Sanskrit in the middle east. He pointed to it. "In history, Sanskrit names inspire Hebrew names." When I didn't say anything, he continued. "Imogen has baby girl, right?"_

_ "Correct," I nodded._

_ "Well, some names keep same meaning."_

_ "Such as?"_

_ "Eva. It means 'giver of life.'"_

_ I was rendered speechless for a moment and was surprised to feel my heart splutter a moment. "Eva." There was a look in George's eye, like he knew more about me than he was letting on. I felt uncomfortable for a moment but shook it off with a chuckle. "My goodness. How almost Frankenstinian." _

_ "You understand." George chuckled, too. _

_ "I gave __**you**__ life," I nodded. _

_ "Ah, not quite. In a way, you did. But you see, that's my point. It wasn't __**me**__ you __**gave**__ life to. I lost my life, you __**returned**__ it. We all give life - you just gave it to __**her**__."_

Herbert said something then, and it was so quiet, I didn't understand. "What?"

"Eva." He cleared his throat. "Her name is Eva."

"Eva?"

He nodded, and was silent for a few moments. "It means-" Herbert finally choked, overcome suddenly, and his eyes met mine. "'Giver of Life.'"

My breath was taken from me. "Eva." I said the name again, and nodded, curling up in Herbert's arms as we cradled our little giver of life.

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We were at the docks in twenty minutes after that; the ship was departing in ten. Dan handed the keys over to Herbert, who was going to drive the car aboard; we planned on tossing the plates over the side once the ship got itself out to sea.

"We don't want you to worry about anything, sweetheart, okay?" Tears started to pour from Meg's face, and Dan's eyes were watery, as well.

"That's right," Dan hugged me. "We're gonna take care of everything here. We'll pay for your family to have the best funeral in the world." It was then I started to cry.

"Thank you, Dan."

"Of course, sweetheart." He kissed my cheek, then turned to Herbert, shaking his hand. "What are you gonna do now? Now, that the formula is gone?"

Herbert shrugged sadly. "Back to square one, I'm afraid."

"Don't worry," Dan assured him. "You'll figure something out."

"Thank you, Dan."

Behind us, the captain called for those seeking passage to board straightaway. I turned back to Dan and Meg. "I love you guys. Thank you so much. We'll be in touch, okay?"

"Don't worry, everything will be fine. Love you, too, Immi." Meg hugged me one last time.

"Love you," Dan hugged me, and with that, we took the car aboard. We left it in cargo, then made our way back out to the decks. I scanned the distance, looking for flashing blue and red, but there was nothing. Nothing yet, that is. I continued to hold my breath.

Leaning against the side of the boat, I waved at Dan and Meg, who were far below, waving back, and something bumped my side. "Huh…" I slid my hand into my pocket and produced Herbert's green journal. I gasped. "Herbert," I whispered. "Look!" I handed it to him, then reached back in my pocket. Down at the bottom was a little vial. I pulled it out. It was re-agent - and it had George's name on it! Herbert was beaming; he started to laugh. It was then I remembered Herbert dropping the journal on the way to help my family, and I remembered slipping the bottle into my pocket that day when I was cleaning.

"Ooh, thank God, thank God!" I cried. Then I laughed, and they fused until I didn't know which was which anymore. It was then that the ship's horn sounded, and below us, the engines rumbled to life. Blowing one last kiss to Dan and Meg, I clutched little Eva to me and put my free arm around Herbert. He wrapped his arms around me and held us close as I lay my head against his chest. In front of us stretched the Atlantic, black and unknown. I had no idea what was going to happen, and I was scared as the ship pulled out into the darkness.

"Don't be afraid, Imogen," Herbert murmured. "We're together, and we're going to be okay."

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In Arkham, Massachusetts, there is a legend. There are many legends, in point of fact, but there is one that revolves around a young, brilliant yet arrogant doctor from Miskatonic University who had the remarkable ability to bring the dead back to life. It was reported he even took in an assistant, a young woman with whom he shared his obsession with the darkness. "She absconded with the devil," they'd say in hushed whispers, but after awhile, no-one seemed to even remember her name. They called her the Scavenger Bride, for she helped collect the discarded bodies he needed to conduct his work. As the authorities closed in on them, the bedlam came to a head at the town's hospital, and, in the melee, he and his assistant disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again.

Twenty years would come to pass…..

The young woman walked the halls to her first class like she owned all of Miskatonic. Whipping her long, dark ringlets from her stoic face, she rounded the corner and slipped into the first classroom she came to. The class, already in progress, had a handful of pre-med students in attendance, all wide-eyed and eager to learn. She pulled her schedule from her book and clutched it her small hand.

"The human heart is capable of pumping enough blood…" The professor stopped short, and he smiled when she came in. "Ah. Yes. Class, this is our newest student. She and her parents just came back from Austria."

"Germany, actually. Yes." She smiled.

He motioned for an empty desk off to his left. "Why don't you have a seat, Miss….."

"West. Eva West."

Taking her seat, Eva West, who looked so much like her mother and had her father's intense, dark eyes, opened her book and began to read.

_"So much has been done….. more, far more, will I achieve; treading in the steps already marked, I will pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers, and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation."_

_~ "Frankenstein," by Mary Shelley_

FIN

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Final MUSIC section:

"New World In My View" by King Britt. The lyrics in the beginning, as well as the music, match perfectly Imogen's blind fear of what her new family could potentially go through.

"An Ascent (Ending)" by Brian Eno. This song was originally composed for a documentary about space exploration, and then was used in Danny Boyle's AMAZING film "28 Days Later," and I use it here now as their ending, their ascent into Arkham legend…..

And finally, one song for little Eva, who returns to Miskatonic years later….. "Bravado," by Lourde. A song about someone who wants to stand on her own and prove herself on her own.

Speaking of Lourde, if I had to cast Imogen for the film, well - I've always envisioned Emma Stone as Imogen. And Eva? Who would play a returning Eva at twenty? Well look at pictures of Emma when she was in "The Help," and of course we all know Jeffrey Combs' Herbert West….. I feel like Eva could easily be played by Lourde herself. :) Just a funny little side-note.

THANK YOU SO MUCH, DEAR READERS. It has been an absolute pleasure writing this story - again, I do hope I've done Herbert - and you - proud. :) Love, BlueMilagro x


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